


Lodgings

by Leticheecopae



Series: Lodge Alternia [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Play, Dubious Consent, Gore, M/M, Mental Anguish, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, demon!stuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:30:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leticheecopae/pseuds/Leticheecopae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk and Dave find themselves stranded in the mountains for the night and in need of a place to stay. What about that house Dirk saw just a few miles back? Not like they can go anywhere else in the fresh falling snow. And what's the worst they can do? Wake a raccoon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Having a one shot while I desperately try to break my writing block for my last final essay.

“Fuck it’s freezing,” Dave pants as they keep walking. It’s been over an hour since he and Dirk left the car behind, something under the chassis having come loose when a snow covered pot hole took them by surprise.

“No shit,” Dirk replies back, his own breathing thin. This is not what he had been imagining going to the mountains would be like. He had envisioned warm fires, spiked hot chocolate, snow tanned snowboarders, and maybe meeting a guy in a sauna after a good run. Instead he’s stuck trekking through almost half a foot of fresh powder in snow boots that are just a tad bit too small. Both he and Dave had even had to take off their shades, their breath fogging them up too much for them to see.

“A-are you sure you saw a house back here?” Dave asks as they keep going, following their lone tire tracks that are slowly filling with snow. The flashlight beam spreads out ahead of them, shaking in Dave’s hand. Dirk tries to breathe normally as they walk, though it’s a bit hard with how thin the air is. God he hates the mountains.

“Yeah, you were too busy making sure we didn’t go off the f-fucking road to notice,” Dirk replies and tightens his arms around his chest. They should have gone with the bigger car. Yeah it would have sucked gas like a bitch, but it would have been worth it to not be fucking freezing to death. At least they got the goddamn insurance.

“Th-th-that it?” Dave chatters between his teeth and Dirk looks up. Sure enough he can see the roof of the house he had spotted on their way up. It’s a dark peak against the almost black clouds in the sky.

“Yeah,” Dirk replies and keep pushing forwards. “Th-that’s it.” 

“Do you s-see a drive?” Dave asks as he sweeps the light along the road, but there doesn’t seem to be any sort of path.

“No,” Dirk huffs back. “Looks like we’re hiking.”

“Really? I thought we were just going to tinkle a few s-sleigh bells and get a ride from S-santa,” Dave replies as he turns into the woods. Dirk can’t bring himself to be either annoyed or amused. He’s too frozen.

The trees cut out any far off light reflecting from the cloud cover that is slowly sprinkling snow. Out on the road they could at least see the tree tops against the sky. In here there is nothing to go off of. It’s just tree trunks everywhere, and no more than a few feet from them is darkness.

They don’t talk much, and it isn’t a comfortable silence. It is filled with the almost squeaky crunch of snow as they huff their way through the woods. For a while Dirk isn’t even sure they’re going the right way until they reach a small wooden fence. It has two planks for every post, giving easy access to climb over or through, and just beyond it Dirk can see a large shadow looming. 

“Oh thank God,” Dave says to Dirk’s left and starts moving a little faster. The red of his snow suit looks almost black with the light in front of him, and Dirk hurries to keep in stride. Dave’s slightly shorter stature makes going between the fence planks easy while Dirk climbs over, eyes never leaving the house and the few glints of light that play over dark windows.

“Fuck,” Dave says softly as he sweeps the light over the wood walls. It’s much bigger than Dirk had thought from the road, the piece of roof he had seen coming from some sort of small tower. There is an odd window just visible in the last traces of the flashlights halo, possibly colored glass though he can’t be sure.

“Shit,” Dave’s hand is tight on Dirk’s wrist. “Did you see that?” Dirk quickly looks down, eyes scanning over empty windows that reflect back light. A couple look a little cracked, but for the most part they seem whole.

“Seriously Dave?” Dirk sighs as he pulls his hand away. “Can we not pull the horror movie bullshit?”

“Bro, I’m serious. I saw something in that window.” He points towards one of the cracked window on the second floor. Dirk looks at it and sees a shadowy reflection of himself and what seem to be some old drapes behind it, but nothing else.

“The colds just getting to your brain,” he responds. “Now cut the shit and lets get inside already. I can’t even feel my dick anymore it’s so cold out here.” He starts heading left and crosses past the flashlight beam as he hunts for a door.

“We should have grabbed the fucking swords,” Dave mutters as he follows. The door into the place isn’t hard to find, though it is hard to open.

“Fuuuuuck,” Dirk groans. “I think it’s locked.”

“Oh well,” Dave says almost brightly. “Too bad, looks like we’ll just have to head back to the road and wait for help.” Dirk glares at him over his shoulder before grabbing the knob and twisting hard. He feels it resist a moment before there is a click and the door swings open.

“Well will you look at that,” Dirk replies with a smirk. “It was just stuck.” By the look on Dave’s face it doesn’t make him feel better. “Come on lil’ bro, let’s see if there aren’t some blankets left in this place.” Dirk takes a few steps inside and holds the door open wide. Dave glares at him for a moment, unmoving, and then there is a gust of wind that makes Dirk’s nose feel like it was bitten off. Dave scurries inside and they firmly shut the door.

\------

It doesn’t take long to explore the downstairs. From what they can tell the place used to be some sort of small lodge filled with comfortable furniture that is starting to mold, and way too many fake animal heads. Whatever the place had been though it looks like it hasn’t been used in a while, or at least parts of it. 

“I think this place may have had a squatter,” Dirk points out when they come back into the living room, arms filled with slightly rotting wood from a pile just outside the kitchen door they had come through. Both had been happy to find a few old cans of soups and stews that hadn’t been expired for too long, and a couple of pots.

“Why do you say that?” Dave sets his wood down on the hearth as Dirk does the same.

“These ashes don’t look that old,” Dirk points out as he begins setting up the fire. 

“Great. Just what I needed to know. Now I’m going to be worried about getting jumped all night.” Dave slumps back on the couch and sets the flashlight down on the table, the light pointing towards the fireplace.

“I said not that old. I didn’t say they looked new,” Dirk points out as he begins to set the firewood up. It shouldn’t be that hard, at least he doesn’t think so. He had found some old hunting magazines to use and kindling, and one of the guys at the last cabin they stayed at had showed them how to make a fire. He hadn’t really ever made one before that. Texas didn’t need fires, it already had the sun.

“Besides,” Dirk continues. “This place doesn’t look like it’s been used in at least a couple of months.” Dirk lights a match and touches it to the magazine. It takes after a second, oily black smoke curling upwards. He watches it for a moment before remembering about something called a flu. Reaching inside the chimney he fishes around with his hand as he turns to look at Dave. “And even if anyone did end up coming in I doubt they would be a problem for us to take.” There is a heavy thud just as he finds the handle and pushes. Dave stares at him and Dirk stares right back.

“Please tell me that was you,” Dave whispers. Dirk stares , body frozen. 

“I-I think so.” Carefully he pulls his hand away from the fire place and listens. There isn’t another noise. “I mean, what else could it have be--” Another thud from above them and Dave lurches off the couch, grabs the flashlight, and points it towards the room where the large central staircase is located. They can just see the bottom of the stairs in the light as the fire behind them hisses and pops, the pages catching fire. 

“The fuck was that?” Dave’s voice is high and soft as he keeps staring. 

“P-probably just a raccoon or something,” Dirk replies even though he can’t keep his voice from shaking. “I mean, I did just open the chimney, maybe I woke it up or something.”

“Great, now we have to deal off with pissed off racoons,” Dave mutters. He doesn’t stop staring at the staircase. Dirk manages to tear his eyes away from it to look at the fireplace. Most of the paper has been eaten away though some of the wood seems to be catching. He mimics what he had seen at the cabin and blows on it, watches the burning fire flare, and is happy to see the wood catch even more. 

“We’ll go track it down later if it makes you feel better,” Dirk says as he blows. “Right now lets warm up.” 

“Fuck going upstairs,” Dave mutters and sits back down, though he keeps the light turned towards the staircase.

“Yeah, I’m with you there.” Dirk blows again. “Turn out the light though, will ya? I want to save the battery.” For a moment Dave does nothing, just stares at the foot of the staircase. “Dave?”

“Yeah yeah I’ve got it.” With a flip of a switch the rooms are washed back into darkness, the fire’s light barely panting flickering beams over the bottom most step of the stairs.

\-----

 

Dirk wakes up with a half hard cock and a horrible need to relieve himself. His lower body is both clenched tight and close to bursting at the same time, and it is not a nice feeling. Dave isn’t making it much better.

“Dave,” he says blearily as he pushes his brother off his stomach. “Dave ge’ up. I need to piss.” Dave’s response is to shift and lay more fully on the floor. The couch cushions are spread out all over, a makeshift mattress covered in blankets found in an old trunk. True to their word they hadn’t gone upstairs, instead opting to make a cushion fort and call it a night. They had stripped out of their wet snow gear and laid out in long underwear and t-shirts to sleep while wrapped in the old blankets.

With Dave’s head off his bladder Dirk feels a bit better, though he still really needs to go. Good thing too, he had been having a really weird dream. He had been in the house, but upstairs, and there had been this guy. For the most part he couldn’t really remember what he looked like, just that he had glasses, dark hair, and his mouth had been really soft on his neck. 

With a groan Dirk stands and walks off towards the back porch. They had found a bathroom, but without water to the house he doubted it would be a good idea to use it. Yeah it sucks pissing off the side of the porch in so little clothing, but not that it really matters. He’d rather piss outside than make the place start reeking of urine. Who knows how long they are going to be up here, especially with the few new inches of snow. The frozen flakes have already filled in their footprints from what he can see. 

The moon has come out at least, the half full face lighting up the drifts as Dirk pisses out into the dark, carving a steaming squiggle into the snow. The cold quickly rids him of his lagging erection. With a final shake he picks up some snow to rinse his hands with and looks out over the white covered pine. It’s peaceful out here, quiet, and he can understand how someone would enjoy it. Under better circumstances he would probably enjoy it himself. 

“Dirk?” he hears behind him and turns. That sounded just a little too far off to be from the living room. Dropping the handful of melting snow he walks back inside, making sure to shut the door firmly behind him.

“I’m right here Dave,” he calls as he heads back to the living room. “Just had to…piss.” There is no one inside. Instead he finds the low burning fire, empty couch cushions, and the flashlight missing. “Dave?” Upstairs he hears cautious footsteps. “Fuck.” Throwing another log onto the fire he quickly makes his way to and up the stairs. Enough light comes through the windows that he can find his way easily, but at the fork at the top he finds himself torn. He was almost positive he heard the footsteps come from the left, but there is light from the right. A slight shuffling to his left and Dirk gets moving. The light had to be some sort of illusion from the moonlight outside, or maybe the flashlight going through a window on the other side.

“Dave,” he calls softly, though he’s not sure why. Speaking loudly up here just doesn’t feel right as he walks through the black hall, snippets of light coming from under doorways and a window at the end of the corridor. “Dave?” he whisper calls into one of the rooms at the end of the hall. There is a slight light underneath the door, which opens smoothly as he moves inside. There is a fireplace at the other end of the rather large bedroom, and from it there is a small glow coming from the back of the wall. A reflection of his own fire no doubt. “Damn,” he grumbles.

“Don’t you mean damned?” Dirk just about jumps out of his skin as the warm breath ghosts over the back of his neck. He doesn’t let out a sound as he whirls about, fists up, and freezes. Glasses glint at him in the dark, the lenses only broken up by a few strands of dark hair. Dirk swallows hard as he takes a step back, his eyes dart over the form of the young man who is suddenly in front of the now shut door. He is wearing some sort of odd hiking get up, but it’s for the wrong season. He’s wearing shorts for fuck sake!

“W-wha-”

“So nice of you to come up and see me,” he says with some sort of accent and makes Dirk’s throat tighten. He’s heard that voice before, right? He had to, it sounds so familiar. “As fun as it is poking around in your skull, I much prefer having a real night cap than an imagined one.”

“N-night cap?” Dirk asks as his brain tries to catch up. What the fuck is going on here? Where had this guy come from? Wasn’t he fucking freezing?

“Not much for retaining your dreams now are you?” Dirk doesn’t like the smirk the guy gives him. There’s just a little too much tooth to it. “Then I guess I’ll have to reintroduce myself.” He sticks out a hand. “My name is Jake, Jake English, and I am very happy to have you in my home, Dirk.” When Dirk doesn’t immediately react Jake takes his hand and pumps it.

 

“How do you know my na-”

“DIRK!” The shout comes from the other side of the house followed by a bright, male laugh. 

“Dave!” Dirk calls back and tries to lurch past Jake. Instead he finds himself bumping right into him, Jake moving faster than he can ever register as arms wrap around his shoulders.

“Oh don’t worry about him,” Jake says much too close to his face. “John can just be a bit of a prankster at times.” 

“John?” Dirk pants. Why is it so hard to breathe all of a sudden? He tries to back up, to get away from the arms around him, and he finds that he can’t. There is no give to them whatsoever.

“My cousin,” Jake says with a smile as he leans in. Dirk shudders as Jake begins to speak into his ear. “He’ll take good care of Dave, don’t you worry.” The words hold something to them that Dirk doesn’t like, not at all, and he gives a small thrash. Jake’s arms tighten quickly and Dirk lets out a whoosh of air.

“Now now,” Jake murmurs against the lobe of his ear. “Don’t you want to continue where we left off?”

“The fuck are you talking about,” he asks, voice airy. “Let me go-oh…” His words trail off as soft lips press against his neck and the hands on his back slide low. 

“Remember yet?” Jake’s voice is barely a breath, but it fills Dirk’s ears. “We were just about to go to bed, you and I.” Dirk swallows as bits and pieces of the dream come back. With a darting glance he sees a dresser that is all too familiar, an old oil painting tarnished with years of grime. Behind him he hears the crackle of fire and watches as the walls brighten.

“Jake?” he questions as the mouth alights back on his throat. From down the hall he hears a thud followed by a pleasured moan. His mind jumps back to his brother but is drowned out as feather light kisses move over his jaw.

“Shhh, Dirk,” Jake says softly. “There will be plenty of time for talking later.” Dirk tries to open his mouth for another question, but only finds Jake’s lips and tongue in place of his words. Jake tastes like copper, like something bitter, but there is something too it that is so heady that it makes Dirk reel for a moment. The world tips back and he follows, stumbling until he hits the bed that he somehow knows will be incredibly soft as hands are helping him pull of his clothing. 

“Where’s Dave?” he tries as he is pushed back onto the bed, Jake’s mouth tracing lines over his throat and shoulders. 

“Don’t worry about him, Dirk,” Jake replies and climbs up onto him as he is laid back, naked thighs pressing to his own. He tosses away the odd jacket he wears and pulls off his shirt. Dirk watches, his own hands feeling unreal as they go to touch over skin that should not be this tan in winter. “John won’t take too much.” Jake smiles, a wide, toothy smile, and some of those teeth look much too sharp.

“Ja-” Jake shifts and an erection Dirk was only partially aware of becomes dramatically more intense as Jake’s cock rubs over it. When had he become this turned on? What was happening? He opens his mouth to try and speak only for Jake to cut in.

“Hush,” Jake says softly and leans down. “We only have until sunup, and I want to get my fill.” Dirk just stares on. Stares at the ceiling as Jake leans down to kiss over his shoulders. There is a crack in the ceiling, one that runs past his line of sight, and in the firelight it looks like it is dancing. He likes this dream, he remembers this dream. See, there are those soft lips on his neck. A moan comes from down the hallway.

“Dave?” he asks, only half aware of the word. There is a cool lick to his neck. “Jake,” he sighs. 

“Good.” The word warms him, fills him as hands trace over him and touch feather light over his cock.

“Jake.” There is only a pinch against his throat for a moment, a gasp from his mouth, and then all is warm. The next moan he hears is his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to regret extending this aren't I. *sighs* Anyways, enjoy everyone. My I apologies if I missed any mistakes. Studies take priority to beta reading, though I did a few sweeps through so if there are any they should be very minor.

Dark hair, quick hands, such sharp teeth, and eyes that are an unnatural blue. They watch as the hands move everywhere. It is touching, biting, clawing, and caressing. It feels good, and it hurts, and it just keeps laughing so very loud and Dave...he can’t...he won’t…

Dave wakes up with a thud. He is no longer on the couch cushions, instead he is laying on the wood of the floor, a blanket wrapped tight around him. He lays still and tries to calm his ragged breathing while his heart thuds in his chest. Outside, morning light is beginning to drip over the tops of trees, turning them into blinding spires from the snow that they hold. From the height of the ball of light, it must be about midday if not later.

Dave lets out a shaking sigh of relief. It had been a dream, the entire thing had been a dream. He had never walked upstairs last night in search of Dirk and found...found… Dave sits up and groans. He really can’t remember what it was he found upstairs in the dream, just that it had scared him shitless. Though that wasn’t right, was it? There had been good parts of the dream too. Maybe? With the way his heart is still slightly off tempo he guesses it was just pure terror, though the slight ache in his cock makes him wonder if maybe it was a little more.

“Dirk,” he groans as he ignores his morning wood and shoves at the lumpy visage of his brother. Somehow, he has stayed on the cushion mattress. “Dirk, wake up.” Dirk’s response is to just roll a little and grumble. “Diiiirk,” Dave tries again and Dirk just swats at his hands. Sighing, Dave stands and stretches. Everything aches, especially his shoulder, and all Dave can think is that he can not sleep on those fucking cushions again. “Fine,” he yawns. “I’ll make breakfast without you.” Dirk doesn’t respond. 

Oh slightly wobbly legs, Dave heads back towards the back porch. There’s a bathroom through the kitchen, but the last thing he wants is to be smelling piss for however long they are stuck in the house. Opening the back door, he is stunned into stillness. There is another good two feet of snow on the ground if not more. His and Dirk’s tracks are gone, the porch is nothing but a sheet of white, and Dave feels his stomach settle somewhere down near his shoes. They are not going to be able to hike in this, absolutely no fucking way. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he fishes his dick out of his long underwear. It’s fucking cold in the doorframe, the temperature most likely in the negatives, and it kills what is left of his lagging erection. Dave doesn’t even attempt to step into the snow that threatens to spill into the house, instead he just pisses from the door and watching it sink down into the snow before freezing. He’s amazed his urine doesn’t just turn into a pissicle as it comes out of him.

“S’fucking cold.”

Dave jumps at the voice behind him as he tucks himself away and finds Dirk standing there, hair mussed and clothing rumpled.

“Yeah, no shit,” Dave replies as he takes a step so Dirk can swap places and take his own morning piss. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to get out of here today," Dave adds. Dirk shivers as he finishes up.

“We’ll think of something,” Dirk replies as he looks out over the snow and zips up his pants. Dave watches his brother for a moment and notes a few things. The flesh around his eyes looks dark, his skin looks paler than usual, and he seems to be slightly trembling.

“Hey,” Dave asks softly. “You doing okay?” He lifts an arm to touch him, only to wince slightly. It doesn’t go unnoticed to Dirk.

“I could ask you the same,” he replies. “Did I sleep hit you again or something? It looks like I put you through the ringer.” He reaches for Dave’s cheek, and Dave can only guess that the floor gave him a lovely little red spot. 

Dave pulls back and rotates his shoulder. It really is sore. “Maybe,” he replies and stretches again, everything aching. “I thought it was just the couch cushions, I mean, you haven’t acted out in your sleep in years, but now that you mention it, I do feel like that might be the case.” Truthfully, Dave isn’t sure when the last time Dirk had slept walked, though he’s pretty sure that him doing so had been in his dream last night. He doesn’t really want to think about that.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still do it,” Dirk yawns and shuts the door. “Anyways, lets eat something, for some reason I feel like I could eat a horse.”

“Can’t you usually?” Dave jokes. The friendly punch to his arm makes him hiss and Dirk gives him a sideways look. “I’m fine,” Dave replies and rubs at the tender spot. “Must be from rolling onto the floor.” He’ll roll the sleeves up and check for bruises later.

\-----

The meal of soup is unusually silent. Dirk keeps looking like he is going to nod off at any second and Dave can’t think of a single thing to say. Well, he can, but he’s not sure how he feels about talking about it. It isn’t until they’re almost done eating that he even opens his mouth.

“Hey Dirk?” he asks as he sets his bowl down. “Did you have any weird dreams last night?” Dirk looks up from his second bowl and blinks at him. “I mean, I had this fucked up dream that you went sleepwalking last night, and I went upstairs to find you and...well I’m not sure what happened after that,” he says as he rubs at the bruise on his cheek. “I think there was a guy up there though, and I don’t think he was really all that nice.” Dave shudders. He can’t put a face to whatever had been in his dream, and really he isn’t sure he wants to. All he can remember is blue, pain, and long fingers. “I mean, if you did that would explain you beating the shit out of me in our sleep, and would probably explain my dream and all, so yeah just wondering.”

Dirk sits silently for a moment. He really does look off, like he’s not fully with the land of the living. “Kinda,” he finally responds. “I had gone looking for you upstairs, but I found…” he pauses and looks towards the stairs. 

“What?” Dave asks. The way Dirk is looking has the hair on the back of Dave’s neck prickling.

“Some guy,” he replies with a shrug before giving a half smile. “Who knows, maybe we dreamt up the same dude, though the one I met was kinda....” He trails off.

“What?” Dave asks.

“Sweet I guess? I can’t really remember. I think he had dark hair though, and glasses.”  


Dave shudders hard as the image of a face tries to put itself together in his head. He shakes it away. “Yeah, fuck that,” Dave responds and grabs his coat off the couch. The fire behind him is keeping the room comfortable, the old place retaining heat better than he had thought possible. He shoves his hand into the pocket, pulls out his cell, and turns it on. Dirk keeps eating his soup as the phone’s little opening song plays before the screen lights up and Dave sighs. “Still no signal,” he says and shows Dirk the phone. “You would think this high up we wouldn’t have an issue getting one.” 

Dirk holds out his hand for the phone and Dave hands it over. “I think the mountains fuck the with signal or something,” he replies as he holds the phone up above his head. Dave watches him move it around before Dirk’s eyes light up a little. “I’ve got an idea,” he says and looks out the window. “I don’t know if you saw it last night or not, but I think this place has some sort of tower or whatever up top, maybe if we head up there we can get a signal.” 

“Well that doesn’t sound fucking creepy at all,” Dave replies before heaving a sigh. “But it might be high enough to get one.”

“Head upstairs then?” Dirk asks as Dave starts to stand.

“Yeah, but lets at least put on our coats. I bet you it’s going to be cold as fuck up there in just these undershirts.”

Dirk chuckles in agreement and stands. Dave lurches forwards to catch him as Dirk suddenly tips over.

“Whoa, the fuck man?” Dave asks as holds Dirk up, his body having gone almost completely boneless in Dave’s arms. Dirk looks up at him blankly for a moment before seeming to come back to himself and gets his legs under him.

“I-I don’t know,” he replies and shakes his head as he stands. “I just got really, really dizzy.” 

“Well no shit,” Dave replies, arms still out and following his movements. “Are you getting altitude sickness or something?” It was one of the thing they had been warned about on the lower slopes. The higher you went the harder it was for your body to keep functioning normally, the air getting thinner and the oxygen not as plentiful. They had been told that lots of water, and in some case blood thinners, were important to help the blood stay thin so it could keep transporting oxygen through the body normally. 

“Maybe,” Dirk replies. “We might need to boil some snow.” Dave nods in agreement as he leads Dirk over to a large armchair and sits him down in it. 

“Yeah, I think that might be best,” he agrees and gets up to grab the soup pan. “You wait here, I’ll go get some.”

“Make sure to get it from the front,” Dirk says as Dave starts heading towards the back door. “Don’t want to be drinking our own piss.” The joke doesn’t seem very funny with how unsettling Dirk’s voice is.

\-----

Dirk falls asleep again almost immediately after Dave had cooled the water enough for him to drink. He had practically chugged the whole pan, leaving a gulp or two left for Dave. As soon as Dirk wrapped himself back up in the blankets Dave left him to get more snow to put next to the fire.

“Get some rest bro,” he murmurs as he brushes back a bit of Dirk’s hair. Dirk barely stirs. Standing, Dave gathers up his jacket and gloves. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He makes sure that he has the phone and flashlight before he heads for the second floor, his shades tucked into the pocket of his jacket. It’s too damn dark in the house to keep them on, even with the light coming in the windows.

The stairs creak beneath his feet as he walks towards the split in the hall. At the top he finds one left and one right. He looks right and stares down the hall for just a moment before he forces himself to tear his eyes away. The similarities from his dream are just a coincidence. There is no way he could have known about the tattered lace curtains on the window at the end, or that there is a faded vase with a landscape painted on it.

‘There are stairs down there,’ his memory whispers and he turns to look back. Dave’s heart is racing as he looks down, and sure enough he can just barely see a bottom step on the left side of the hall when he leans all the way to the right.

Fuck. He can’t know that, it shouldn’t be possible. There is a noise from downstairs and he jumps. Standing stock still he listens, and finally breathes when he realizes that what he is hearing is the half asleep murmurings of Dirk. It is true he hasn’t slept walked in a while, but sleep talking is something he’s never quite grown out of.

“Doing okay down there Dirk?” Dave calls, hoping that it will be enough to jar his brother from slumber, though he doubts it. Dirk has had full conversations with Dave in his sleep before. 

Dave isn’t sure what Dirk says back, but he think it sounds like ‘jug’ or something. He must still be thirsty. For a moment Dave debates on going back down and shaking Dirk awake, forcing him to drink more water and go upstairs with him. His legs even start moving him back down when he stops. Dirk isn’t looking good, and sleep would be best for him no matter what is wrong with him. 

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Dave murmurs as he stands in the middle of the staircase as he listens to Dirk muttering below him in the other room. “Worst thing you can run into in this place are a few raccoons and maybe a rat.” The thought doesn’t make his heart slow at all as he turns and heads back upstairs. He pauses for only a moment before heading down the hall towards the other set of stairs, and he does not look at the paintings on the wall. No need to see if those were in the dream too.

The stairs are across from another door that he ignores. There is a bedroom in there, he knows it, though he doesn’t know how. ‘It’s an upstairs room, what else would it be,’ he tries to rationalize as he goes up the stairs. They squeak a bit worse than the others, but they are a bit shorter, leading up to a small third floor landing. There are only three doors here. Two on the sides, and one at the end. Pulling out his phone Dave lifts it up. No signal.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as he looks up at the middle doorway. Logic says that if any of these doors were to lead to some sort of tower, it would be that one. He glances back down the stairs again. He can’t hear Dirk anymore. Dave chews on the inside of his cheek and looks back to the door. ‘Dirk needs to get down the mountain,’ he says to himself. ‘He looks like shit, and if he really is having elevation sickness then he needs to get out of these mountains ASAP. So stop being scared of a door and get your ass up there’. 

His feet make an almost hollow sound on the floor as he strides quickly to the door and pulls it open before he can pause. The blast of cold air that flies over him makes Dave jump back as his heart tries to escape out his throat. He stands staring at the set of stairs, fists up and ready even though there is nothing on the steps.

“Calm down,” he tells himself as he pulls himself out of the stance. “Just a leaky old attic or whatever. I mean what are you afraid of, dust bunnies?” The chuckle he lets out sounds too forced, even to himself, and he stops quickly. Dave’s mouth is completely dry as he goes towards the stairs, the colder attic air slowly wafting over him. Each creek on the way up makes him want to turn back around and go back to Dirk, though what would that do? Dirk is in no state to travel, he could barely stand after thirty minutes of movement. He wouldn’t be able to do much out in the woods, even after a nap. The thought is enough to keep Dave going all the way up.

The attic is dim, most of the windows clouded with dust and frost, though the sunlight is enough for him to see around. Whoever had lived here before had left quite a bit of junk in the attic. There are old skis, snowshoes, fishing poles, boxes upon boxes of junk, broken toys, old furniture, and a plethora of other items there were speckled in dirt. Dave shivers as he pulls out his phone again and holds it to the ceiling where he sees tiny icicles hanging from cracks in the old plaster.

“S-shit,” he chatters out as he looks up and taps the tip of one of the icicles with his phone, his arm and side aching as he stretches. The icicle doesn’t budge. Taking his eyes away from the icicles his heart jumps as he realizes his phones doesn’t say, ‘out of range’ any longer, though there are still no bars. “Come on,” he murmurs as he starts to move around the stacks of boxes. “Come on, come on.” His brain provides a ‘do the locomotion with me’ as he passes an old train set with tracks that are streaked through with rust.

As he gets closer to the other side of the room he sees a bar wink in and out of existence. “Yes,” he hisses as he keeps moving until the bar stays still. He freezes and brings the phone down slowly to himself. The bar stays. “Fuck yeah,” he says before quickly punching in 911. It takes only a few moments.

“911 dispatcher, how can I help you?”

“Hey, yeah, my name is Dave Strider and me and my brother are stuck up in the mountains in some run down lodge or something and he’s not looking too hot. I think he might have altitude sickness or something, and we nee--”

“Where exactly are you sir?” the woman on the other end of the line asks, her voice a little fuzzy. 

“I-I’m not sure, we were heading towards Aspen using some backroads our GPS put us on. We got stuck in the snow. We saw a house and got in it last night. It’s like some sort of abandoned lodge or something,” Dave says quickly. 

“Do you remember what road you were on?” the woman asks. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs as he tries to think of it. “No I don’t. I can try and look it up, but I’m afraid I’ll lose you. This place doesn’t get the b-best signal and I’m already freezing my ass off in the attic trying to talk to you.”

“Alright, can you at least tell me what mountain you were near or on?” Dave wracks his brain as he thinks about that. What mountain had they been on when they had been driving? It had started with an E hadn’t it? “Uh, E something, like, Egbert I think?”

“Mount Elbert?” the woman asks and Dave starts nodding vigorously. 

“Y-yeah that’s it,” he replies. At least it sounds right.

“Alright, is there anything about the place you are in that stands out? Something that might let us know where you are or describe the house from the air?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Dave says as he drags his finger through his hair. Fuck, why hadn’t they paid more attention to where they were going last night? “It’s this, like, three story lodge thing with a tower on it and a,” his eyes catch on something on the far wall. A window made of blue and green colored glass and takes up almost the wall is shining dully through the dust, an odd pattern on it. “The tower has some sort of weird glass window. It’s blue with some sort of g-green flower outline on it or something. There’s a circle around it.” His teeth are freely chattering as he says it. 

“Anything else? Was there a name or anything on the lodge?” 

Dave lets out a noise of annoyance and distress as he looks around the room. All this junk, there has to be something. A half open box catches his eye and he dashes to it. There are a few thick volumes inside, one of which he yanks out. “I-I don’t know,” he says and opens it, the first page has ‘Jake and John. Lodge Alternia. 1904-1913’. “Wait. Lodge Alt-ternia,” he says. “I think, I mean there’s this book and shit and I--”

“How in the world did you get up there?” the woman interrupts, and there is a genuine question and surprise in her voice as Dave turns away from the book and starts to pace. 

“I told you, we got lost in the snow,” he almost snaps. “And now Dirk looks real sick and there’s like three or four feet of snow out there and we can’t get out. We need help.”

“Alright, one moment, I’m going to see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Dave breathes as he sits down on an old chair that is covered in a cloth. The phone goes a bit staticy and he immediately stands. The only sounds he hears for a while is the gentle hum of his phone, the thump of his foot as he restlessly bounces it up and down, and his teeth chattering. He’s not sure how long he waits before the voice of the woman comes back, but when she does he jumps a little at her voice.

“Mr. Strider,” her voice comes through, she doesn’t sound happy.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but with how bad the roads are and the incoming storm we’re not going to be able to get anyone out to you until tomorrow.”

“T-tomorrow,” Dave cries out. “My brother is sick! We can’t wait until tomorrow.” His heart is hammering as he speaks.

“I’m sorry Mr. Strider, but with how bad the storm is there is just no way of us getting a chopper out now without risking the lives of the crew, and there’s currently no way up the mountain by any other means.” 

“T-then what the fuck are we supposed to do,” Dave asks, panic starting to creep into his voice.

“Try and stay warm, burn whatever you can. Do you have any dry wood with you? Food?”

“Y-yeah, there was some left over from whoever was here last, but what about my brother? I don’t know what to do.” This was not happening, it wasn’t.

“Keep him warm, give him plenty of water if you can get it, and we’ll be able to get someone out to you tomor-- after the sto-m. Alright Mr. S---der?” 

Dave pinches his nose. 

“Mr. Stri--r.”

“Yes, yes I got it. Just come get us.”

“Mr. S--d-- I --n’t h--”

“Hello,” Dave says. Fuck, he hadn’t realized he was actually losing her. “Hello!?” Static comes through on the other end before cutting off. Fuck. Lifting the phone quickly he tries to get another signal, but nothing comes through. Instead, the attic seems to dim a few shades and a whistle of wind comes through the cracks. 

“Shit,” he murmurs and puts his phone back in his pocket. “At least they know where we are.” Behind him something falls to the floor. It makes him jump as he whirls around. The book he had found the name of the lodge in is on the floor. Dave stares at it a moment. It looks way too large to have been blown off the table by the slight wind currents in the room. Maybe he had left it closer to the edge than he thought. Dave eyes it, the corner of something sticking out from between the pages. Slowly he goes towards it, picking it up gingerly before opening it. 

Inside are pictures. Row after row of black and white pictures with what looks like a set of twins. They both have dark hair, buck teeth, and glasses, and they look to be about ten years old on the first few pages. In the first one, one of the boys is holding a fishing pole while the other is sneaking up behind him, a stick poised to poke his side. The next is the two of them on horseback, one waving and the other beaming wide. There is something unsettlingly familiar about the faces.

Dave keeps flipping through them, and watches as the two kids start to change. It soon becomes clear that they aren’t twins, though definitely related. They both stay relatively gangly, though one is taller than the other, while the other stays shorter but stronger looking. Dave never sees the taller one not smiling in the pictures, inside and outside of the lodge. After a few more pages he finds that it’s not always a good smile. He turns the picture and finds the two of them holding weapons. ‘First Hunt’ it says beneath the photo is tidy print. The shorter of the two is holding a rifle while the other is holding what looks like some sort of hammer and grinning at the camera. Behind them is a dear in some sort of trap that looks anything but humane, part of it’s head bashed in. Dave quickly turns the page. There are more hunting photos, pictures of them playing some strange game with a ball, and some of them swimming in creeks. He watches them age until they look to be almost his age. There are less pictures of them playing games, and instead he sees them building things, hunting things. 

Dave turns to the last picture and freezes. It’s in color, not very good color, but color. Both of the boys are tan, an arm thrown around each other as they smile at the camera. There is a large buck laying at their feet. ‘The Last Kill’ is written in at the bottom along with two names. ‘Jake’ is written beneath the shorter boy, green eyes looking out of the page. It is the other set of eyes that makes Dave’s mouth go dry. They are bright blue even in the dull print, mischievous, and the smile he wears looks like it is just shy of malicious as he looks at the camera. Dave looks at the name.

“John,” he says out loud. There is a tinkling sound and then something falls. Dave jumps as he turns to see one of the larger icicles has fallen from the ceiling. Breathing hard he turns back to the photo and jolts back. The eyes had been looking down before, like they were looking at someone kneeling, but now... had they moved? “Fuck this,” Dave says as he slams the book shut and heads for the door. Behind him another icicle falls, and he feels very little shame as he speed walks down the first set of steps, jogs down the second, and runs down the third as he hears the attic door slam shut.

\-----

Dirk is still out when Dave gets downstairs, face still ashy as he lays curled up in the blankets. Dave pants as he looks down at Dirk who is lying completely still now. His breathing at least is even, and he isn’t sleep talking. Dave isn’t sure he can deal with that just now. With a sigh he slumps down to sit on the cushions next to his brother, his heart still racing. Outside the wind whistles, the sky having darkened. Looking out the window he can see the clouds rolling in.

“Great,” he murmurs and sighs. “Looks like she wasn’t kidding. We’re gonna be stuck here another night.” Dirk doesn’t respond at all, not even a twitch except for his nose gently flaring as he breathes. Dave reaches out to pet his brothers head. “The hell is going on with you?” he asks quietly. Dirk looks really pale, and it’s worrying Dave. The soup and water should have given him some color, right? Dave pushes some of Dirk’s hair out of his face before resting a hand on Dirk’s shoulder, pulling at the cloth of the shirt a little to straighten the seam. There is a slight glint of color on Dirk’sneck as Dave pulls at the cloth, and it catches his eye. Leaning in a bit closer he sees a tinge of red just barely above the collar of Dirk’s undershirt. They had bought the slightly high collared long sleeved undershirts to keep out the cold while skiing, the fabric keeping in the warmth easily. Dave subconsciously touches his own neckline as he reaches for Dirk’s with the other hand.

As Dave pinches the cloth between his fingers and pulls it down he finds his fingers are shaking. What he finds makes him let go, the cloth snapping back into place. “The fuck,” he whispers as he stares at the now covered spot. That had to have been the trick of the light, maybe a rash from the shirt. It could not have been what he thought he saw. ‘One way to know,’ his brain murmurs, and Dave hates that it’s right. Slowly, Dave reaches for the neckline again. Pulling it down he looks again and finds something that looks like some kind of bite. Four holes, two right next to each other and two more on either side. They look relatively fresh, and somewhat deep, but there is no blood. In fact, they look perfectly clean, almost like they had been treated. Dave shifts to try and see better in the odd position and feels the ache in his arm. What in the fuck had he done to himself last night? His stomach drops. Wait...if Dirk has marks like this then…

Dave bolts up and heads to the bathroom, feet light and quick on the wooden floors. He sheds his coat and shirt as he goes, the cold quickly settling against his skin.The bathroom door screams as he yanks it open and heads inside, the sight in the foggy mirror making him shiver. The high window in the room gives him plenty of light to see the marks that decorate his body. Deep blues, purples, and reds decorate his flesh, the bruises large and still a little puffy in places. 

“What the fuck?” Dave breathes as he tugs his pants down just enough to see the marks on his hips better. They look like hands, the bruises giving the barest outlines of fingers over his lower back and palms on the bone. “What the fuck?” Dave’s head jerks up as the light through the window dims considerably. In the corner of his eye he catches something in the mirror on his shoulder. It’s hard to see at his angle, but he manages it by twisting his upper body. There, in his flesh, are four similar holes, though they are still red in color. Dave swallow, arms shaking. They match Dirk’s, and if his eyes travel just a little further under his rib cage he can see another set. He turns to show his other shoulder and side and finds another, and another.

“Dirk,” Dave calls as he backs out of the bathroom. “Dirk!” He rushes back into the living room where he finds Dirk blinking blearily out into the room. Dave can tell he’s not awake yet as he kneels down and puts a gentle hand on Dirk’s shoulder. “Dirk, wake up. We need to go, Di--”

Dirk’s unfocused eyes look just past Dave as he interrupts him. “What’s wrong Jake?” Dirk’s voice is far away, sleepy. Dave swallows hard as he looks down at his half asleep brother and feels his heart in his toes. Outside the wind starts to howl. Looking out the window Dave feels his throat go dry as he watches big fluffy flakes begin to spiral down from the dark clouds above. 

“Shit,” Dave murmurs. The storms here.

“Jake?” Dirk asks again.

Somewhere upstairs Dave thinks he hears footsteps.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are these finals you speak of? 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy, and sorry if I missed any errors. Bit busy right now.

It is the tugging that wakes Dirk up. It is insistent and harsh as it pulls his shoulder up and at an odd angle.  
“For fuck sake get up we’ve got to go,” Dave is saying. That isn’t right, Dirk was talking to Jake wasn’t he? Wait. Who’s Jake? “Dirk I swear to god if you go catatonic on me right now I am going to lose my shit, you hear me? I am going to lose my shit, and we are both going to have holes in us for completely different reasons, and I am going--”

“The hell are you babbling about?” Dirk yawns and yanks his arm away. His head is spinning; his whole body is nothing but a lethargic bag of bones and skin and he just wants to lay down again. It’s cold outside of his little blanket nest and it’s all because Dave is having some sort of panic attack about holes or something.

The slap wakes him up. “The fuck!” he shouts as he holds his hand to his cheek. The room tilts and he feels like he may puke for a second, but Dirk is definitely awake and Dave has his full attention.

“Dirk, listen to me,” Dave says through his teeth, and Dirk finds that whatever he was about to say in anger is dying on his tongue. Dave is covered in bruises, cuts, and is that a bite on his shoulder? “We have to get out of here, before the storm blows in. We-we either need to find another house, or go back to the car, or something but we can not stay here. There is something seriously wrong with this place and--”

“Woah, woah Dave slow down,” Dirk says as he gets up on somewhat shaky legs as Dave stands horrified in front of him. His eyes are open wide, and Dirk absently wonders where his shades have gone. “First off, the fuck happened to you? Did you actually find a racoon in the attic?”

“Damn it, Dirk, fuck the racoons! We don’t have time for this. We need to leave!” He dashes away for a moment to pick something up from the floor. It looks like his coat. “There is something seriously fucked up about this place, and if we don’t get out now then we’re going to be stuck here another night and--”

“Did you get a hold of the park rangers?” Dirk asks as he reaches for the melted pot of water on the hearth. His mouth feels like cotton, and the water does little to alleviate it, but at least he doesn’t feel too bad anymore. The food, water, and sleep seems to have done him some good. Now he just needs the room to stop tilting every so often.

“Fuck the park rangers, we’re on our own until tomorrow,” Dave says as he comes back into the room holding his shirt and coat. Dirk stares at the marks on him. He couldn’t have done that to him in his sleep, especially not the weird bites.

“Dave, would you calm down and tell me what happened to yo--”

“Why don’t you go look in the fucking mirror and see for yourself!” he yells back as he pulls his shirt on. 

With a huff of annoyance, Dirk gets up and heads back to the bathroom as Dave starts gathering together all the things he had brought into the house. The kitchen tilts a little under him as he goes, but at least he can stay up on his own feet. Dirk doesn’t expect to see almost perfectly matching bites on his neck when he pulls down the neck of his shirt. “The fuck?” he murmurs as he pulls off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves. There are faint hand marks on his forearms. He stares at them for just a moment before ripping the shirt upwards, straining the thick fabric as he pulls it up over his head and feels sore spots erupted over his back. He stares at his chest in shock once it is off. Where Dave had bruises he seems to have hickeys; there are at least a dozen of them covering his body just from what he can see. There are more bites too, lots of them, and each one looks like it was surgically cleaned.

“Okay, what the fuck,” Dirk hears behind him. He whips around to find Dave standing in the doorway staring at him. 

“I look like I had a fight with a god damn mountain lion, and everything on you looks like it’s been cleaned by Patch Adams.” Dave is trying to play it at least semi cool now that he seems to have taken a few deep breaths, but Dirk can still see him shaking.

“Dave, what the fuck is going on,” Dirk asks as he starts pulling his clothing back on.

“I told you,” Dave replies as he starts to walk away. “Something in this house is fucked up, and we need to get out before the storm blows in.”

“Fucked up how?” Dirk asks as he follows Dave back out into the living room. 

“Waking up covered in bruises and bites, and you’re saying the name of some bastard who lived here in early 1900’s fucked up,” Dave replies as he goes towards the couch.

“The hell are you talking about?” Dirk asks as he pushes his hand to the side of his neck. It hurts a little when he touches it, but besides that he probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all.

“Jake, Dirk,” Dave says as he rolls up one of the old blankets. “I’m talking about Jake.” 

Dirk feels some tug of familiarity at the name, a tug that sets his stomach quivering just slightly. He doesn’t know anyone named Jake, so why is he suddenly feeling so on edge? “How the hell did you find out who lived here before?” he asks as Dave tosses the blankets on the couch. He barely saves his shades from being tossed in with the cloth and tucks them into his coat pocket.

“I found an old photo album when I was in the attic trying to get a signal,” Dave replies. “I also found out we’re at Lodge Alternia and some storm is blowing in as we speak. No one can come get us until tomorrow, and I don’t know about you, but fuck if I am going to try and stay here another night.” He turns in a small circle as a gust of wind hits the house outside.

“Shit,” Dirk murmurs as he looks out the window. Snow is falling; large white flakes in front of a slate grey sky. The sun is already starting to hang low in the tree line. 

“Dirk, where’s the flashlight?” Dave asks. 

Dirk tears his eyes away to look back at his brother. “What?”

“Where’s the fucking flashlight!” Dave shouts at him. His eyes are looking wild again. “I left it on the couch before I went to check on you in the bathroom. We need that flashlight if we want even a slight chance of getting out of here.” 

“Calm down,” Dirk says as he goes to help him shift the piles of cushions and blankets. “We’ll find it.” They search for a few minutes in a silence that is only broken by the wind and Dave’s quiet cursing.

“GOD DAMN IT!” Dave shouts loud enough to make Dirk’s ears ring after a few minutes of searching.

“Hey, don’t panic,” Dirk says as he looks through the pillows. “It has got to be somewhere around here. Did you take it upstairs with you to the attic?”

“No, I-I couldn’t have. I never took it out of my pocket,” Dave says. “I remember putting it right there before I went to check on you.” He points at the very empty couch. 

“Are you positive? I mean, weird shits been going on, are you sure you didn’t leave it upstairs?” Dirk asks as calmly as he can while Dave rubs his hands over his face. 

“Fuck, okay maybe it fell out up there or something. I don’t know.” He looks up the stairs, and Dirk can see the fear in his eyes. 

“I can go get it,” Dirk says and takes a few steps towards the stairs.

“Hell no, one of us goes somewhere in this house the other goes too,” Dave says as he moves to go up with Dirk. “I don’t care how crazy I sound, but I do not want either of us so much as pissing by ourselves as long as we’re stuck in here.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dirk replies and rests a hand on Dave’s shoulder. He can feel a fine trembling throughout his body. “No splitting up. I got ya.” 

“Good.” Dave turns away and starts up the stairs. Dirk follows, and while his head swims a little when they reach the first landing he feels okay enough to follow Dave up the second one and to the door at the end of the hall. Cold air hisses out under the door frame as they both stare at it.

“Everything okay?” Dirk asks, and he is surprised when Dave jumps.

“Yeah, fine,” Dave replies before reaching for the doorknob. Before he can touch it the door creaks open. Dave jerks back and Dirk catches him. “Fuck,” he says as he pants hard. Dirk can feel more than just a fine trembling in Dave’s limbs now, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t trembling a little himself.

“Just the wind,” Dirk tells him. “With how harsh it’s blowing, and how old this place is, I would bet money it was just the wind.”

Dave doesn’t respond. Instead he straightens himself and pulls the door open. They both pause as they see a light at the top of the stairway. “Well this is theatrical,” Dave mutters, but heads upwards. Dirk follows. When they clear the landing they find the flashlight laying on the floor, the beam pointed towards a box of books and a table.

“See,” Dirk says with a sigh of relief. “You probably just dropped it when you ran out.” He walks over to the light and picks it up. On the table a book sits open. Dirk looks at it and frowns. “Why the hell would someone take a picture of that?” Dirk keeps the light up as he looks down at the picture. There is a dead buck in the picture, but no one else.

“What are you talking about?” Dave asks as he comes over. “It’s just a hunting photo, they always pose with the dead animal.” 

“Well yeah, but it’s just the buck,” Dirk says as he ruffles through the pages. “And why are the rest of these photos empty.” The book is ripped away from him at those words. “Whoa, Dave the fuck is--” he stops when he sees Dave’s face. His pupils are blown so wide that he barely has any red anymore, and there is no color left in his face. “Dave,” Dirk asks softly. He jumps and drops the book before turning to stare at Dirk. “Dave, what’s going on.”

“T-they were in there. The two of them, they were in there. In every fucking photo, I went through them all myself. Jake and John were in there, I swear they were in there, I-” He lurches to the box of books and yanks out a heavy looking one. Dirk watches as he yanks it open and freezes; the book falls open onto the table. Dave doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even reach for the pages as he looks down.

“Dave?” Dirk asks, but he doesn’t even twitch. As quietly as he can he moves next to his brother and looks down. The picture shows two coffins sitting side by side, the color grainy and old. There are people all around the two of them. Dirk reaches down and turns a page. An old newspaper clipping sits yellowing on the next page.

“John Egbert and Jake English were found dead in the woods behind Lodge Alternia June 28th after going out for a day of hiking,” Dirk starts. “The boys were found dead, John having been shot in the chest by a shotgun while Jake had sustained injuries to the head, face, and neck that were later determined to be the cause of death. ‘Those boys loved one another’ Mr. Egbert said when he was questioned about if the boys had any bad blood between them. ‘They were best friends, more brothers than cousins. Whoever did this did it to mock me, and them. They were good boys, who would do this to them?’” Dirk pauses to swallow and glance up and Dave who is still frozen in place. He continues. “Police are saying that there is a chance that the killing was ritualistic due to the findings of blood having been splashed on some of the surrounding trees along with deep cuts. Some of the blood and cuts were done in the form of symbols, but it is yet to be proven if this theory is true or not. ‘Either way,’ head ranger Griffith Mayor said. ‘Those who live on the mountain need to be careful, along with all those in the surrounding areas. Whoever did this is dangerous, and he could strike again’. The service will be-” the article cuts off and he goes to turn the page. What they find makes them jerk back, and Dirk slams the book shut.

“Holy shit,” he hears Dave say softly. His voice is shaking badly as he speaks. “They were fucking slaughtered.”

“Who the fuck keeps pictures of that!?” Dirk asks. Even just a glimpse was too much. Police photos had been taken. One of a boys had his face bashed in until it wasn’t even recognizable as a skull; the other had a hole blown through his chest. They both jump at a heavy thud next to them, and Dave tangles with Dirk to get away from the noise and sending them both down to the ground. 

“Shit, Dave, stop,” Dirk says as he tries to untangle them. He keeps his eyes locked in the direction of the thud. A large, old black tome sits open on the floor. “It was just another album.” Only that doesn’t quite fit. There doesn’t seem to be any pictures in it, at least not photographs. There is something twisted and hand drawn in this one, and when Dirk finally gets them seperated he aims the flashlight at it. What he thinks might be latin is scrawled down one side while the other shows the picture of...something. He doesn’t get a good enough look at it before the page flips.

“Dirk,” Dave says and tugs at him. Dirk looks over his shoulder to find Dave looking wide eyed at the book as more pages flip. The book on the table falls and opens to the page of the crime scene photos. They are empty. Dirk lurches upwards and pulls Dave with him.

“Time to go,” he says and stumbles for the stairs with his brother, the room tilting as adrenaline floods him. Something else falls behind them and the winds whistles, ruffling their hair and the pages. 

“Flashlight?” Dave pants.

“Got it,” Dirk replies as they stumble down the stairs, the beam making it almost harder to see as it casts shadows on the uneven steps. They hit the landing just as something flies against the door frame. Photos shoot out past them and scatter over the hall. They decorate the floor with empty scenery.

“We need to go,” Dirk pants as a gust of wind shoots up the stairs and pushes them back towards the attic. Dave numbly nods next to him as they lurch into the wind and head down the stairs. The doors on the next floor open and close at random; a cacophony filling their ears as they run. When they hit the first floor the fire in the fireplace is roaring and they freeze.

“Shit,” Dave squeaks as they see the blankets in the flames. “Our gloves were in there.”

“Come on,” Dirk says and pulls him towards the double doors. They yank the wood open and are immediately blown back as wind and snow blasts into their faces. The sun is gone, lost in the storm, and almost full blackness greets them behind the driving wind. Dirk drops the flashlight and grabs a banging door. He shoves it shut before doing the same thing to the other.

“Fuck,” he pants as Dave stands in the middle of the front hall shaking. “We can’t go out there, Dave. We’ll freeze to death.”

Dave pulls at his hair as he looks at the door and then into the living room. Dirk can see he is panicking, fuck he’s pretty close to just bolting out into the storm himself, but it’s suicide. Without the blankets, their hats, or their gloves, they wouldn’t make it.

“We need to hide,” Dave finally croaks, and it is just barely audible over the slamming doors upstairs. “We-we need to get away from them. There going to kill us like they killed each other. Oh god we-”

“We didn’t kill each other.” The house goes quiet and the words ring through the front hall. “Well, I guess we kinda did.”

“More like your father killed us,” another voice adds. 

“Can we stop with the ‘your Dad’ thing? He was your uncle too ya know.” 

Dirk turns his head to find that the living room is no longer in shambles from their flashlight search, instead it looks perfectly pristine besides the blankets in the fire. The cushions are back in place, the rug on the floor is straight, and two young men around Dirk and Dave age are lounging on the couch. They are sitting close to one another, the taller of the two with his arm thrown around the slightly shorter one.They are glaring at each other a little before the tall boy cracks a smile and pecks the other on the nose. He sighs in response before letting himself fall against the taller one to look at them both.

“Do you see what I’ve had to put up with for the last century?” The shorter boy asks, and his eyes are so very green. “He’s absolutely impossible to deal with when he does the nose kisses.” 

“You like ‘em,” the other says, and his eyes are almost too blue to comprehend. “Though they don’t work too well on calming Dave down,” he adds. Dave jolts next to Dirk, hand scrambling to grab for him. Dirk lets Dave’s fingers dig tight into his skin and welcomes the grounding pressure that comes with them.

“W-who are you?” Dirk asks as he takes a slight shielding step in front of Dave. He’s feeling dizzy again, but that doesn’t stop him from taking on the role of big brother. 

“Oh come now, Dirk,” the green eyed boy says with a pout. “After the lovely evening we shared last night I thought you would never be able to forget me.” He grins at Dirk when he finishes speaking and both boys take a step back. The teeth look a bit too long and sharp in front, same with his canines. He knows where the bites came from.

“Jake,” Dirk breathes just as Dave lets out a shaky version of the name, “John”. Both of the boys on the couch smile wide.

“With how much you screamed my name last night, Dave, I was going to be worried if you didn’t remember it,” John says as he rubs his hand up and down Jake’s arm. “Though with that small lapse in memory maybe I need to carve it into that backside of yours.”

“You leave me alone,” Dave snaps and pushes past Dirk just a little. “Don’t you fucking touch me you psycho!”

John’s eyes flash and both boys stumble back as he moves quicker than they can follow. He stands just inside the living room with his eyes locked on Dave. “Already wanting to play?” John asks in a voice that is just a bit breathy and excited. His fingers curl and uncurl before Jake is wrapping his arms around him.

“Now now,” Jake murmurs up into his ear as Dirk finds himself in front of his little brother again. “We’ll have plenty of time for that as the night wears on. You heard Dave upstairs, no one is coming until the storm is over.” The words seem to calm John down a little before Jake unwinds himself from John’s body.

“Why don’t you two come sit down?” he asks as he leads John back to the couch. John walks backwards, never looking away from Dave. When he licks his lips, Dirk can feel Dave shiver behind him.

“I think we’re okay,” Dirk says back. Jake furrows his brow. 

“Dirk,” he says in a tone that sends tremors down from Dirk’s ears to his toes. “Come sit by the fire and stay warm. Bring Dave with you.” Dirk’s feet move without him, one step in front of the other as part of him zones out and the rest of him starts screaming. Or maybe it’s just Dave who starts screaming as Dirk pulls him. He can’t stop though, and soon they are both seated in front of the fire, Dirk holding Dave tight to keep him put. It isn’t until Dave stops fighting him that he lets go.

“There, better don’t you think?” Jake asks, and his look is one of the smuggest things Dirk has ever seen.

“Wh-what did you do to me?” Dirk asks as he sits absolutely still.

“Nothing you didn’t agree to,” Jake replies. “I asked you if you would do everything I said last night, and you agreed.” Jake smiles again as Dave’s hand tightens over Dirk’s.

“What do you want?” Dave snarls at the two of them.

“Besides tasting you again?” John asks and Dave jerks. Jake gives him a sideways look that makes John stop whatever he was about to add.

“We’re lonely,” Jake replies. “A century together isn’t everything we thought it would be. The whole death do us part thing doesn’t work well when you can’t die again.”

“Death do us…” Dirk starts as his brain tries to translate. We’re these two a couple? “But, aren’t you two cousins?”

Jake smirks. “We liked to keep it in the family.”

“Or at least I liked him to keep it in me,” John says with a wink.

“But his father, my uncle, didn’t react particularly like that,” Jake adds as if John had never spoken. “He kept telling us that we were going to hell, not just for being gay, but for being insestuous as well. For years he tried to whip it out of us, took us hunting and forced us to watch the deer mate. Never did anything though, we still found our way into each others beds, and he still insisted that the devil was going to come and drag us to hell.” 

Dirk swallows as he listens. He can’t move more than a few inches in any way, and his back is starting to burn up under his jacket. Jake lifts a brown and nods at him when he finishes talking, and Dirk’s body relaxes some. He shifts enough that he is no longer in fear of burning his back, but that is the extent of his movement.

“So we decided why not just see what hell was going to be like if we were already headed there,” John continues as Dirk moves to get comfortable. He can’t run anyways, and if he can act less scared then maybe it will help Dave. “Might as well try it out before we spent the rest of our afterlife in it.”

Dirk and Dave look at one another out of the corners of their eyes. “I don’t quite follow,” Dirk says, though he has an inkling of what they mean. 

“You saw the book,” Jake says and leans forwards. “I think you’re smart enough to put two and two together.”

“What, did you s-summon a demon or something?” Dave tries to joke. He’s calming down a little, thank god, but when John just grins wide at him he recedes back against Dirk’s shoulder.

“It was more botched than anything,” Jake says as he nods. “But yes, that’s about right. Only lovely uncle Egbert followed us into the woods. He didn’t trust us to keep our hands off each other you see, and when he found what we were doing he decided that John would make a good clay pidgeon and that I needed a little dental work done.”

Both Striders flinch back from the couch as the two on it turn bloody and grotesque for the faintest of moments before being flesh and bone again. “He tried to make it look like we did it to one another at first,” John says. “But he knew that would never work. So it became some crazed madman who did it. No one ever suspect my perfect father, who raised his son and abandoned nephew all alone, could possibly kill us.”

Jake snorts. “If they had only known how crazy of a bastard he really was,” Jake says and squeezes John’s hand.

“B-but why are you still here then?” Dirk asks as he looks between the two. “Shouldn’t you, be, uh, somewhere else?” He doesn’t want to say hell. That seems like a bad idea.

“Perceptive, Dirk,” Jake says. “Uncle hadn’t realized we were almost done with the ritual when he interfered. When he left to go home and change he left our bodies, and our blood finished the summoning. The demon Damara, lady of revenge, gave us a choice.” For a moment the wind outside intensified.

“We could move on to whatever awaited us next, or we could be together in this house and get our revenge,” John finishes.

“You can guess which one we chose.” Jake lifts John’s arm up and kisses the knuckles.

“Dear old Dad was so surprised when we came home a few weeks funeral and tore him to pieces. He didn’t taste very good though,” John says lazily as he runs his fingers through Jake’s hair.

“They had to take him away in separate sacks,” Jake adds with a fond smile and he puts John’s other hand down. “They thought the madman had come back and killed him. It gave the house a bad reputation, and we had it to ourselves for a while.”

“Then the next family came in, and they weren’t really the kind of people we wanted around,” John says and pulls a face.

“What he means is they were elderly and their grandchildren liked to break all of the things in the attic,” Jake replies. “Turned them anemic every time they came to see their grandparents, and when that didn’t work, we drained the couple until their little old hearts gave out.”

“Then there was that couple with the baby,” John continues. “Whoever says older is better is wrong. Fresh out of the wom-”

“Stop,” Dave croaks. He sounds ill, and dirk doesn’t blame him. He’s feeling sick as well as he looks at these two smiling boys on the couch. They aren’t much older than them, but there is such a weight to them that lets him know they are much too old; much to wrong.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like my stories Dave?” John asks. “Don’t worry, we don’t need to talk about the others. I mean, a few kids now an again isn’t too bad. Plenty of kids from the cities don’t know how to deal with altitude sickness. Especially when their blood ends up being a little thin.”

“But that’s why we were so happy when you ended up here,” Jake cuts in. “Two boys, around our age, and how very handsome they were too. We couldn’t believe our luck. And your taste,” Jake closes his eyes for a moment. Dirk can see his throat flex as he swallows. “It’s something I can never forget.” He looks Dirk in the eyes and licks his lips. “I want to taste you again, Dirk.” He lifts a hand and motions towards himself. “Now.”

“J-Jake, n-no” Dirk stammers as he feels his body getting ready to stand. His voice wavers, but the rest of him is already starting to rise. Dave tugs at his arm, but he doesn’t move.

“Dirk, Dirk move. Please,” Dave begs as Dirk takes a halting step forwards. He doesn’t want to move forwards, he does not. 

“Come here, Dave,” John says as he uncoils from the couch, and Dave’s tugs double in strength. “I want to hear you sing again.” 

Dave bolts, tugging Dirk as hard as he can as he does. It makes him stumble, and it is enough that he can get moving with his own legs again. They dash to the front door only to find the knobs do not turn. The wind behind them howls.

“Shit,” Dirk pants as he spins. He jolts to the side when he finds John near him. Dirk doesn’t realize that John is trapping his brother to the door until he hits the floor with his backside. Dave lets out a strangled sound of fear before shoving John away and bolting for the stairs. John watches after him and licks over too long teeth. 

“Your little brother has quite a nice ass,” John says with a wink before he vanishes. A gust of wind chases Dave up the stairs

“Dave,” Dirk calls after him as Dave disappears down the right corridor. “Dave!” So much for sticking together. Dirk turns his head to look for Jake. He finds him standing in front of the fire with a grin on his face. He is completely motionless, yet something tells Dirk that won’t last long. Dirk scrambles up and pounds his way up the stairs before Jake can give him a command. “Dave!” he calls as he makes his way up. A scream comes from down the hall to his right. He turns to go down it only to find too green eyes looking at him. He stumbles back, rights himself, and then stumbles again before shooting down the opposite hallway. Turning the corner he finds a familiar door that he pushes in before slamming shut. “DIRK!” He hears as he tries to figure out a way to lock the door.

“DAVE!” he yells back as he gives up and runs to one of the windows. He can barely see the bedroom on the other side of the house through the heavy snow, and there is some sort of firelight dancing in the windows. He can just make out Dave frantically trying to get the window frame up. Dirk does the same, tugging and pulling, but to no avail. The window doesn’t budge. When he looks up he isn’t looking at Dave anymore, but John, and he is smiling.

“DAVE!” he yells as he pounds against the glass. John disappears and he hears a cry. Cold light illuminates him in the glass and the sound of wood crackling fills his ears. It makes Dirk’s hair stand on as he sees hands materialize from behind him.

“Don’t worry,” Jake says in Dir’s ear as his hands slide up under Dirk’s coat. It makes him freeze as lips find their way to his neck. “John will take good care of your little brother.” Something sharp grazes over his shoulder and he is tugged backwards at a frightening speed.

It’s Dirk’s turn to scream as he is pulled away from the window. Too bad he can’t find his voice to do it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Essynkardi who helped my half asleep ass go through this and find my mistakes. We think we got most of them, so sorry for any we may have missed.
> 
> Also, all those violence and blood warnings, they are from this bit here.

The door won’t open, it won’t fucking open. Shit, shit, it has to open. They need to get out! Dave spins to see if he can make it to the back door and instead finds himself faced with too blue eyes. He feels an odd sound bubble up between his lips as he shoves John and runs blindly up the staircase. He has to get out; there has to be a way out. Something in him tells him he can’t let John touch him again, that it would be very bad if he did; very painful.

Dave turns right at the top of the staircase and bolts down the hall. He turns right again when it comes to the stairwell and another short hallway. As soon as he is through the door at the end he slams it shut. There is no lock, but there is a large armchair. He drags it over with a boost of strength from his adrenaline, and gets it against the door just as something hits it. He can’t help the scream that comes from his throat.

“Come on, Dave,” John calls through the door. “I just want to play again. You liked how we played last time didn’t you?”

“DIRK!” Dave screams and hears the return of ‘DAVE!’. He bolts to the window. The door rattles, but doesn’t open. Good, the chair is holding. He tugs at the window and looks out across the house. He can see a dark room on the other side, though the snow is making it hard to see anything. It doesn’t help that the light in the room is making Dave reflect in the window. Wait. Light? 

He doesn't want to know, instead he grabs at the frame of the window and tries to pull up. The key word is tries, because the thing doesn’t move; not at all. He tugs again, his hands going to scramble around the frame for a lock that might be keeping it shut. There is nothing.

“Di-” he starts to let out when he feels the sharp tug. He goes stumbling back, and hits the footboard of an old four poster bed. It creaks from the force, and he lets out a groan. When he looks up he can see John standing in front of the window with his back to him.

“DAVE!” he hears, the words muffled from the distance. Then John is looking at him, and he can’t help the cry of fear that escapes his mouth as he dashes to the door. He expects it to be sitting open, instead he runs headlong into the armchair. 

“N-no,” he stammers as he tries to quickly shove it out of the way, but it doesn’t move.

“Oh, Dave,” John says behind him in sing song voice as he tugs at the chair. “Why don’t you come here so we can play?” 

Dave keeps yanking at the chair, and he is quickly finding that it isn’t budging. It’s not that heavy, he should be able to move it at least somewhat. Hands grabs his shoulders and spin him. He lets out a gasp as he is shoved into the armchair, and hands push him into the lush cushions. Dave feels like the chair is going to swallow him up. Looking up he finds John’s eyes, and if he has the choice between death by chair or whatever John has in mind for him, he will take the chair.

“Don’t worry, Dave,” John says as he climbs up into the chair. He keeps one hand on Dave’s shoulder to keep him pinned while the other comes up to run through Dave’s hair. Something about it is much too familiar, and he shudders. For a moment he isn’t in the chair, he’s on the bed with his face half pushed into the sheets as he cries out from the pain in his shoulder. There are nails on his scalp.

“Is my brothers little block breaking?”John asks, and when had he gotten so close? His mouth is right next to Dave’s ear while his hands are pulling Dave’s jacket down his arms. When had he unzipped it?

Dave lashes out with his fists only for John’s hands to pin them against the chair. The fuck is he talking about? “B-block?” Dave asks as he tries to move his arms, but John’s grip is vice like. 

“It’s his little gift,” John tells him as he leans in a bit. His breath smells like copper mixed with sour things; dragon’s breath and blood. “He can fuck with your head,” John says and lets go of Dave’s arms. “And I can fuck with your body.” Dave tries to lash out, but he finds that his arms aren’t moving. “And a few other things of course.” For a moment every window in the room blows open, and snow swirls around them before they slam shut. “He went ahead and kept you from remembering last night so you wouldn’t bolt this morning,” John adds as he runs his hands over Dave’s undershirt. “Guess he’s a little too busy with that brother of yours to keep it up.”

Anger bubbles up fast in Dave’s chest; both at himself for bolting like he had, and at the demonic bastards keeping him and Dirk trapped. “You fucker, get off of me. If he hurts Dirk, I swear to god I’ll-”

Dave’s head snaps to the side as John slaps him. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you saying something?” John asks as casually as if he were talking about the weather. Dave pants as John leans in to speak in his ear. “See, I thought I heard you say if Jake hurt him, when you should really be begging for me not to hurt you.” Dave’s eyes goes wide as another little memory comes flooding back.

‘Sing for me birdy,’ John had been saying as his hands dug into his hips. Not enough to break skin, but it was painful nonetheless. Dave had screamed, because it was all that he could do anymore. He couldn’t move his hands, or his legs, or anything. All he could do was scream, and when John had slid his teeth into his thigh he had done a whole lot of it.

The memory only lasts for a few seconds, but it’s enough to have him panting as he finds that he is no longer wearing his shirt, or at least not like he had been. Instead it has been cut right down the center, and there is a stinging scratch down his chest. 

“I knew you were going to bruise well,” John murmurs as he runs his fingers over the bruises on Dave’s chest. “Even nicer than Jake. No matter what I do I can’t get that lovely purple to last for more than a few hours.”

Dave lets out a hiss as John shoves his thumb into a bruise. “You and your cousin are real fucked up, you know that?” Dave manages to grit out through the pain.

“Well that’s nothing new,” John replies as he drags a nail from bruise to bruise, creating a constellation of reddened skin. “Why do you think my father killed us?” He keeps dragging his nail over Dave’s chest, and the further he goes the more it feels like a claw. “Found us fucking in the slaughter house out back once. Jake had me bent over the table we had just slaughtered the buck on, still slick with blood, and that was how my Dad found us. Jake balls deep in me, and me covered in gore.” John moves to put his face right in front of Dave’s. “And let me tell you, it was the fear I saw in his eyes that really got me off.” The claw hooks a little under Dave’s chin, and he’s almost sure it’s going to push up through the bottom and hook into his lower jaw. “I want to see it in yours.” 

He doesn’t expect the kiss, and he doesn’t want it, but John’s fingers are locked around his jaw and he can’t move his head as John kisses him hard and rough. John’s abnormal teeth drag over Dave’s lips, and he can taste blood. “Come on, Dave,” John murmurs before giving a long lick over his lips. “Kiss me back.”

“Go to hell,” Dave replies. He’s not getting out of this. This...thing in his lap is going to kill him before he’ll even get a chance.

“Oh, when we finally figure out how to get out of here I’m sure it’ll be absolutely lovely,” John chuckles. “But until then, why don’t you open up.”

John’s other hand dips between them and squeezes Dave’s flaccid dick hard enough to hurt. He lets out a gasp of pain, and finds a tongue in his mouth a moment later. Dave does the first thing he can think of; he bites. The moan that reaches his ears is almost pornographic as blood drips between his teeth. He lets go quickly and pulls back. There are deep marks in John’s tongue as he sits in Dave’s lap; his eyes half closed and tongue hanging from his mouth. Dave had almost bit the damn thing and two, and it drips crimson black on his naked chest. 

He stares in horror as John pulls it back into his mouth, closes his eyes, and swallows. “Now that,” he murmurs in a tone that sounds like he is in anything but pain. “Was what I was hoping for.” When he goes to lick his lips his tongue is whole again. “Jake kept you two on too short of a leesh last night,” he says and runs his hand through Dave’s hair. Dave’s hands snap up to grab at the arm, and he is surprised he can move them at all. “That is one thing about Jake that’s gotten a little old,” John sighs. “He’s so much for keeping in control, and I,” he pauses to let out a deep sigh. “I like to lose it.” 

Dave screams as teeth sink into his shoulder. John had moved so fast, too fast for him to fathom, but god damn it does it hurt. His hands come up to grip at John’s hair and tug. It is thick and almost wiry, like petting a husky, and Dave is determined to pull it out. John makes another moan into his shoulder, and Dave doesn’t stop. He wants those teeth out, he wants them out now, and when they finally do slip away with a warm tongue laving over the wounds he finds himself panting as endorphins sing through his brain.

“It’s wonderful isn’t it,” John says before pressing his tongue into the marks. Dave grits out a strange sound and grips at John’s hair again, but the teeth don’t come back. “To feel that little thread under the pain, that taste of pleasure so deep it makes your toes curl to just think about it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dave grits out between clenched teeth. 

“Oh, it’ll come back to you,” John says as he shifts in Dave’s lap. Something presses against his belly through John’s pants. “Your body will remember before you do.” He sounds much too pleased.

Dave lets out another cry as nails dig into his hips, right through the thickness of his pants. He bites at his lip to silence it, not wanting to give any pleasure to the sick fuck slowly rocking his hips over Dave’s thigh. The nails come out a moment later before there is a gentle rub of fingers. It stimulates a low, burning pain that makes Dave groan as he tries to push John off. He doesn’t budge.

“See,” John says with bright eyes as he keeps slowly moving his hips. “You can feel it, can’t you.” 

Dave doesn’t know what John’s talking about at all, but his nerves can’t deny that there isn’t something oddly soothing about the slight burn of fabric over the small cuts in his hips. John kisses him again, and Dave can taste his blood. It makes bile rise in the back of his throat, and he goes to shove at John. The movement must take him by surprise, because he actually falls back and hits the floor. He looks up at Dave with a lazy smile as he lays with his legs splayed open and upper body propped up on his elbows.

“Come on, Dave,” John says as he lets his legs fall open just a little more. “Try and remember how much fun we had last night.”

“Shut up,” Dave says quietly as he tries to shake the images away. They are trickling in, and he doesn’t want them. 

“You liked fucking me raw,” John says in a low tone, and Dave sees it. He sees red on his hands, John laying splayed on the bed. Dave’s fingers carve small rivulets down his sides as his hips buck upwards. “Liked watching me bleed.” 

“Stop it,” Dave snaps as he grips at his skull. From the other side of the house he hears a sharp cry and jerks away from the chair and towards the windows. John lets him go. Through the window he can see into the other room, and he can make out part of the bed. Dirk’s back is to him, his jacket is gone, and Jake’s eyes are glowing green embers next to Dirk’s throat. They stare at Dave as Jake’s teeth sink deep into his brother's shoulder. 

“Dirk!” Dave yells and beats at the window. Dirk doesn’t seem to hear him, just sits in Jake’s lap with his head to the side. 

“See,” John murmurs behind him. “Your brothers getting into it already.”

Dave spins and shoves him away. “Jake’s controlling him,” Dave says as John stumbles. “He’s fucking with his head like you said he could.” He can’t keep the tinge of fear from his voice.

“Either that or your brother likes what he’s getting,” John replies. Dave shoves him again, and it is John’s turn to hit the bed. He stands with his back against the footboard, the wood coming up to the small of his back.

“Shut up,” Dave growls at him. 

“Or what, Dave?” John purrs. “Are you going to try and shut me up again?”

Again? Dave staggers the memory hits so hard. John’s head between his thighs, mouth around his dick, hands locked over Dave’s hips. Dave had a blade to his cheek, pressing, watching the blood follow the gentle curve drip by drip.

“N-no, I didn’t, I wouldn’t,” he stammers and shakes his head violently. 

“Oh, Dave,” John says from the floor. “But you did. And I’m sure you can do so much more when it’s just you in that skull of yours.” 

Dave stumbles as he is tugged forwards by the waist of his pants. Lips meet his, and for a moment he kisses back, harsh and biting. It lasts only a second before he jerks away and swings. His fist collides with John’s face, and John goes down. The laugh John lets out is gleeful.

“See, I knew it,” he squeals and wipes his bloodied nose with the back of his hand as he talks with a voice full of excitement. His glasses are missing. “I knew Jake was keeping you two all nice and collared last night. Knew you had more in you. Bet that brother of yours has a wicked streak too.” 

“Shut up!” Dave screeches and throws a kick at John’s head. It hits him right in the temple, and John crumples. Dave stands panting above John, chest heaving with a slight sheen of sweat cooling over his skin. He stares down at the damned soul before him and kicks again. This one collides with John’s stomach, and the whoosh of air that escapes him is so satisfying that Dave does it again; then he kicks at John’s chest, his stomach again, and his legs. Dave uses his foot to flip him onto his back and goes to his own knees over him, grabs him by the throat, and brings his fist down.

“You want wicked?” Dave sneers as he pulls his hand back again. “I can show you fucking wicked.” Another punch. “I’ll fucking send you to hell myself.” 

“Promises, promises,” John coughs out with slick words. Dave’s hand comes down again, and John catches it. His fingers hold Dave’s blood slicked fist fast, and they stare at one another. One of his eyes is swelling shut, only a shard of blue shining through. Dave blinks once and the damage is gone. “Too bad you can’t back it up.” 

The normality of his tone makes Dave cry out in anger as he swings with his other fist, which is caught as well. He’ll kill him. He really will. Tear him apart nice and slow and show him what it feels like to be broken down, how it feels to have his body sectioned off into pretty little pieces before burning him in the fire.

“Now what dark little thoughts are you thinking?” John hums up him. “Tell me Dave, I so want to know what you want to do to me.” 

“Let go and I’ll show you,” he hisses back. 

“Well you’re showing me something already.” John’s eyes tip downwards and Dave glances down to where he is looking. There is a definite bulge pressing against the front of his jeans, and the second he realizes it John has them flipped. “See,” he says and grinds his hips down into Dave’s. “I knew you remembered the thrill.”

Dave lets out a gasp of pleasure mixed with a tinge of pain as the cuts in his hips feel the drag of fabric once again. When had he gotten hard? He didn’t enjoy this, he had never gotten off on this. It was Jake, it had to be Jake still fucking with his head; leading him along like he had last night. Right? 

“Come on, Dave,” John whines as he nuzzles his neck. “What happened to that fire. Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got. You’ll disappoint me.” 

Oh god he wants to hit him, wants to watch his lip split again, but- “What’s the point?” Dave asks. “You’ll just heal again.” 

John lets out a cackle. “Heal,” he manages and shakes his head. “I don’t ‘heal’ Dave, I just show you what you would rather see. That is, unless you would prefer to fuck a corpse.” 

Everything is in odd shades of black in the cold firelight, setting half of John’s body in shadow, and it takes Dave’s brain a few moments to realize what he’s looking at as he stares up at John. Everything he’s done to John is there; the swollen eyes, split lips, the cut to the cheek, and so much more. But that isn’t what is horrifying to him, those things he can stomach, the rest is making bile rise in the back of his throat. John’s chest is a gaping hole, the flesh torn away around a pockmarked spine. His lungs resemble something that has gone partially through a grater, and only half of his heart is still in his chest; still beating. His tongue comes out to lick over his lips, and Dave can see the bite he left.

“I’ll let you fuck the hole if you want,” John whispers as he leans down, and his voice sounds slick and airy. “Gets nice and tight if you angle up towards my throat.” Blood drips out of every cut and oozes from John’s wounds. It drips over Dave’s bare chest and neck, and as John’s face comes towards him he panics. Dave lashes out, punching John in the face before he can get any closer, and knocks him to the side so he can roll away. He scrambles up and lurches forwards, not caring where he is going; he just needs to get away from him.

Dave hits the wall next to the bed and breathes heavily against it. Behind him John is laughing. As slowly as he can, he turns to look at him, and finds him completely whole on the floor. “Oh the fear on your face,” he giggles out. “I thought you might shit yourself.”

“You are seriously fucked up,” Dave pants as John sits up and wipes tears from his eyes.

“I thought that was pretty obvious,” John replies as he gets up and dusts himself off. 

“What about Jake,” Dave asks. “He get off on punching your lights out.”

John pauses and heaves a slight sigh. “Sadly no,” he says as he goes to lean against the bed. “He gets off more on control, and while that can bring pain, it’s not the same as going at someone without any rules. I’ve gotten him to break his control a couple of times, but they happen too rare for my taste.”

“And let me guess,” Dave pants as he starts to inch along the wall. “You aren’t all that good at giving up control thing.”

“Oh look, you’ve won the prize, why don’t you come get it.” John spreads his legs as he speaks. Dave can see him hard in his jeans.

“Sounds like trouble in paradise,” Dave says in response as he tries to keep the subject on them. 

John snorts and rolls his eyes, legs falling closed. “Oh it’s always been trouble, but we’ve gotten good at balancing what we need with one another. But you see, its just gotten a little...boring.” Dave jerks as John is right in his face again, moving faster than he can see. It so unnerving how quickly he can move, like trying to watch wind.

“Then you two showed up, and it was perfect.” John’s voice is ecstatic. “That brother of yours was just begging inside to be controlled, and I could smell the chaos on you the second you stepped in the house.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dave bites out. He needs him to back up, or he’s going to punch him again. God he wants to punch him again.

“Oh?” John asks. “When you and your brother fight, who is the first to snap? Goes to throw the first punch?” 

Dave grits his teeth. It’s true, when it comes to getting angry he goes for the strifes. Dirk tries for words. “That doesn’t mean I like slicing people open,” he tries. It’s not all true though. When they strife, and he has the steel between his hands, he gets a little thrill every time he leaves a cut, a scratch, a gash.

“Oh no, that doesn’t,” John murmurs, voice low and dark. “I didn’t know you liked that until I put a blade in your hands.”

Dave swings, and he hates himself for it. He’s proving this sick fuck right; fighting back blindly while he should be trying to get out of here. He can’t deny that when his hand connects he feels a sickening swell of gratification. He punches again before he can think on it too much. The third is deflected, and Dave is pulled forwards by the ruined shirt that is still hanging off his shoulders.

“Come on, Dave,” John begs against his mouth, and Dave doesn’t pull away this time as the damned boy’s lips touch his. “I know you want to do more than just throw a few punches.” 

Dave’s fingers curl into fists as he tries not to move, to react, but it’s so hard. He wants to tear into this fuckers mouth, dig his fingers into his flesh. To hear him scream in pain would be sweet after all these giggles and moans. 

John traces his tongue over Dave’s lips and lets out a gasp as Dave bites. Not a full bite, he stops himself at the last second and sits there with the tongue between his teeth. John stares at him with half lidded eyes, tongue wriggling gently, mocking. Dave wants to bite, he wants to bite so bad. 

He hears a cry from across the house, and it isn’t one of pain. 

The sound that John lets out as Dive bites down and crushes their mouths together is almost just as pleased, and it makes Dave bite harder. Blood wells between his teeth as he pushes John back. John doesn’t stumble at all, just grins as Dave moves towards him, and sheds his coat and the ruined shirt. It is cold in the room, the strange fire behind the grate producing no heat, be he has plenty of heat growing in his belly as he shoves John again. John grabs him on the next push and kisses him, and Dave kisses back; bruising and biting as they hit the bed. Dave grips John’s hands and pins them to either side of his head on the mattress as blood tinges his lips.

“I knew you had it in you,” John pants, and Dave can feel John’s cock against his hip. He would love to deny that his dick isn’t pressing right back, but he can’t. There is no more denying anything as he looks down at John and wants nothing more than to see if he can actually hurt him; make him scream. He’s not sure he cares just how, but now that the fear has trickled away there is only rage, and he is going to use it.

His mouth latches to John’s neck, and it is his turn to sink his teeth in him. John lets out a somewhat surprised sound before he lifts his feet and wraps them around Dave’s waist. Without letting up on the pressure, Dave sucks hard at the bite, and in a few seconds he can taste the first tinges of copper on his tongue. 

“Fuck, yes,” John pants as his hips grind against Dave’s, and Dave pushes right back. Something cool is slipped into his palm, and he already knows what it is. “Its for skinning you know,” John says as Dave pulls back. “Used to use it on the bucks. Always kept it nice and sharp.” 

Dave holds the knife tight in his hand and looks at it. He had pressed this to John’s flesh last night, he can remember that now, and he wants to do it again. God he wants to do it again. But there is just a little bit of a problem getting to all that skin. 

With a flick of his wrist he gets the knife under John’s shirt and pulls up. The cloth splits with a satisfying tear while leaving a long red line from hip to shoulder. He then cuts to the other sleeve, revealing more skin and letting the old fashioned top fall to the bed. Dave traces the blade over the flesh, dragging it along pale skin that he knows isn’t fully whole, not after what John has shown him, but he doesn’t really care. He wants to leave a few more marks, whether he can see all of them or not.

“Don’t heal,” Dave orders before making the cut. John hums a sounds of appreciation as Dave makes a quick slash over his naval. The cut isn’t deep, and Dave isn’t sure of how deep he wants to go. He already feels like he’s on the edge of something he would rather not fall into, though it’s hard not to think about it as he flashes the blade over John’s chest and watches black well up in the cold firelight. He wants to know if the rest of his insides will look black, if the knife can really skin him.

“Do you want a taste?” John asks him, and he looks up from the little cuts and slices he has left. 

“What?” Dave blinks at him in confusion for a moment before they are rolled. The knife is taken from his hands, and the cuts come quick. The slices are done at an angle, the tip of the knife disappearing under flesh but keeping out of the meat. Dave lets out gasps of pain as his hands grapple against unseen forces. 

John licks his lips as he looks Dave over, the cuts on John’s chest oozing as Dave’s run in tiny rivulets.

“Thought you wanted to be the one in pain,” Dave grits out as he feels the cuts sting and trickle.

“Oh, I do enjoy it,” John replies before he licks his lips. “But I can’t deny how much I like hearing you sing.” He ducks his head, and Dave lets out a cry as John’s mouth latches to a cut and sucks. A thumb presses into one of Dave’s other cuts and John’s other hand goes down to palm Dave through his pants. The crossfire of pain and pleasure causes Dave to let out a confused sound. That shouldn’t have felt good. That really shouldn’t have felt good, but as John’s tongue plays with a strip of flesh and does it again Dave can’t help but press up with his hips.

“I told you that your body would remember,” John chides as he slides his chest up Dave’s, forcing the cuts to split. It hurts, but John’s still playing with his dick, and despite the sting there is something underneath that makes Dave pant from more than just the pain. The kiss that John gives him this time is less teeth and more lips as his fingers follow half moons of flesh, and his hips push Dave’s into the side of the bed. The position makes Dave’s back ache as his feet twitch on the floor and his mouth responds. He wants to move upwards onto the bed, get more comfortable, and see if he can’t cause John a little more pain. Well, twisted pleasure at least. The best he can do is pull his legs up to push against the mattress, attempting to scoot himself back as he tries to yank his hands upwards. He wants to claw at John, tear into him. Where had the knife gone?

“What’s wrong, Dave?” John asks as he pulls back. “Not comfortable?” The pressure on Dave’s wrists dissipates.

“Get up here,” Dave responds with a growl as he grabs John and tugs.

“Up?” John asks as Dave tries to pull them up fully onto the bed. “What a lovely idea.” 

They roll, but in doing so there is a moment of weightlessness. Dave lets out a gasp of confusion as his back hits something hard. Did they fall off the bed? “The hell,” he coughs out and looks up. Well, it would usually be up, but right now it’s down, and John is the one looking up at him as he straddles his hips. The plaster of the ceiling is cold against Dave’s back as he looks down at the bed.

“You asked for up,” John chuckles as he grinds his hips against Dave’s. Pleasure spikes and pain flows as John leans in and sinks his fangs into Dave’s neck. Dave shouts through his teeth as he reaches out and wraps his hands over John’s bare back; nails digging into cool flesh as he feels John sucking at his wound, drinking him down. As he does it, Dave feels a tug at his legs. He grips John tighter as his shoes, socks, pants, and underwear are yanked from him. John is simply bare in a blink of an eye. 

Dave lets out a gasp as the teeth in his shoulder pull out and John leans back, exposing his bloodied chest. Dave can’t tell how much is his or John’s anymore; it all looks black in the firelight. John rocks his hips, and his cock skims over Dave’s as he licks his lips. The only color on him is the blue of his eyes.

“Do you want to fuck me yet, Dave?” John purrs, and it’s a stupid question seeing as Dave’s just as hard as this bastard. He doesn’t want to be, doesn’t want to acknowledge just how bad he wants to just fuck John screaming, but he does. Dave doesn’t understand how he went from wanting to run shrieking from John to hearing this him screaming his name. All he knows is that is what he wants now, and he’ll have it.

“The hell do you think?” Dave pants as John shifts above him. John’s hand travels down Dave’s chest as he goes up on his knees. Dave groans from the pain at first, but ends it in a pleasured moan as John’s bloodied hand wraps around his cock, slicking it in gore. Dave digs his fingers into John’s thighs, doing his best to draw blood with blunt nails.

“I think I’m ready for you to stab me, if you know what I mean,” John chuckles.

Dave groans, because that was a horrible joke, and how was he afraid of this fucker before? Then he looks past his head and remember that they are currently on the ceiling, and that he is currently covered in cuts, and that the only reason he isn’t dead is because this fucker is bored with his sexlife. That is why he should be afraid of him, though it is hard to be afraid of someone when they are attempting to sit on your dick.

“T-the fuck are you doing?” Dave asks as he pants. God damn it he’s too tight, John is much too tight. He stops with just the tip inside him, and Dave feels like he is being pressed into a vice.

“What’s it feel like I’m doing?” John pants, and there is a tinge of pain in his voice as he stills. A lovely little tinge of discomfort that makes Dave not care how tight John is, he bucks upwards. John lets out the first shout Dave has heard, and Dave shifts his hands to grip John’s hips. It hurts him some to pull John down, but it’s worth it to see him bite his lip and writhes.

“So this is how I get you to squirm huh?” Dave mocks. “This is the only way to get you to feel pain?” He thrusts up again, and John’s body tries to get away.

“S-shut up,” John says and looks down at him with those too blue eyes.

“What?” Dave asks as he jerks up again, and John lets out a cry. “Take more than you’re used to?” He pulls John down and moves his hips, keeping John trapped over his lap as he wiggles and writhes. “Let me guess, Jake always prepped you, made me prep you.” 

“F-fuck,” is all John can come back with.

“Looks like you really will learn what is like to be fucked raw.”

John looks Dave in the eyes and snarls, but it is interrupted as Dave thrusts into him again, and again, completely enveloped in the cool tightness of his body. He knows it should probably be warm, and that he should probably be a bit more freaked out about fucking a dead guy, but the fact that he has finally gained a little control over the situation is too intoxicating. He wants to make John hurt, wants him to feel pain in ways he won’t enjoy, because fuck him. Fuck this demon thing that has jerked him and his brother around, trapped them, and is now learning what it is to be hurt again. 

John’s body jerks away from Dave’s dick with each push up and thrust. His nails dig into Dave’s upper arms and pull down, dragging cuts into the flesh as he lets out a strangled sound when Dave hits something in him. It is a confused sound, somewhere between pleasure and pain, and Dave finds that he likes it. Not because it makes John feel good, but because that means he know where not to hit.

“That where you want it?” Dave asks. “That the ‘taste’ you’re looking for?” 

“Yes,” John groans. “Yes, there. I want that.”

“Think I’ll give it to you?” Dave grunts and thrusts again, making sure to change his angle. 

John snarls, and Dave finds claws around his throat. His hips stutter to a halt as John looks down at him, and fear shoots back through him. John leans down, teeth bared, and they are so very long. They could tear Dave’s throat out if they wanted too. 

“You will,” John whispers. “Or I’ll make sure you don’t see sunup.” 

Dave stays still for a moment with the claw around his throat. Fear and anger shift against one another. He finally finds a way to fight back, and as soon as he finds it, it is taken from him. The hand tightens, and Dave moves. John lets out the pained gasp again with the tinge of pleasure, and suddenly they are falling. They bed rushes up behind John’s head, and just before they hit they hover. 

“Again,” John demands as he lowers himself to the bed, and Dave goes with him. The angle has changed with Dave on top, but the claw digging into his neck hasn’t. He thrusts, and the hand around his throat spasms as John’s insides do the same. He can still see streaks of pain on John’s face while he thrusts; he focuses on them and the pleasure he gets from the tightness he is pressing into. Dave thrusts as hard as he dares with the claws around his throat, and John seems to realize it is causing him to hesitate, because he lets his hand fall away. 

The second it does Dave moves hard and fast. John lets out a cry, and Dave is happy to still hear the pain in it. His goal is to make sure that John never feels just pleasure. He grabs one of John’s legs and pushes it straight back to John’s chest. It gives him more room to thrust when he hooks it over his shoulder, and while he keeps the angle that John likes, he deviates enough to get snarls and threatening looks between cries of pleasure and pain. 

“Harder,” John pants as Dave keeps moving. His own orgasm is building, and he hates that the pleasure it is coming from someone so distorted. From someone not quite human. Dave grits his teeth but does so, and enjoys the way John’s body spasms and the knee over his shoulder tightens. He keeps going, eyes drawn to the cuts on John’s chest. John’s knee knocks into his head on a particularly hard thrust, and it forces it to the side. He sees the glint of metal just past John’s head. 

“Almost,” John is panting. “Almost.” 

“Yeah?” Dave asks as he reaches for the knife, making it seem like he is just shifting his balance. He needs to keep John from seeing, from knowing. “You finding you like it raw?” Just a little further. Dave gives a hard thrust that makes John slide a bit on the bed, and he manages to wrap his hand around the hilt. 

“Yes,” John shouts. “Harder, fuck me, tear me,” John is yelling. Somewhere Dave can hear other cries, pleasured cries. John’s claws are shredding the bedding underneath him.

“How’s this?” Dave snarls as he brings the knife up and then down. John’s eyes fly open wide as the knife slides down into where his heart is. John’s insides tighten, and he cums between their bellies as blood bubbles over Dave’s fingers. Blue eyes stare up at Dave as John coughs, blood dripping over his lips. Dave stays buried inside John, unmoving, as he watches those blue eyes flicker. “How’s this?” he asks. John’s hand comes up and grips at Dave’s throat.

“Perfect,” he chokes out before crushing their mouths together, the handle of the blade ramming into Dave’s shoulder and forcing it deeper. The hand on his neck stays as John keeps kissing Dave, crushing his throat, cutting away oxygen. Dave struggles against it, manages to get the knife out from between them, and stabs again, and again, and again. It does nothing as John’s mouth works against his and blood fills his mouth instead of air.

“Not letting go of you,” John gasps as he pushes Dave back, but keeps his grip. Dave stabs at John’s arm, cuts, but he can’t get through the bone. Blood flows black down John’s arm, covers his body, and drips from his mouth. He rolls them, and Dave shudders as John starts to ride him, pleasure spiking over his dick as his brain tries to process what is happening. “Death do us part,” John pants as blood dribbles from his mouth. 

Dave’s stabs get softer and softer until the knife drops from his hand. He tastes blood in his mouth, feels a sharp pain in his shoulder as John’s leans down, and an airless orgasm rips him into darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one more chapter after this. It will be short and should be finished this weekend. Just a wrap up for y'all, so keep a look out!
> 
> Also, I re-wrote this thing about four times. I tried to make sure everything is cohesive, but if you find any odd moments or things I missed sorry about that!

Dirk’s back hits the bed, and air wooshes from his lungs. He finds himself staring up at the canopy of an old bed, the cloth looking black in the cold light filling the room. Dirk’s breathing is panicked as he tries to scramble upwards, but a hand quickly pushes him down. 

“Let go,” he grunts and pushes at Jake’s arm in an attempt to get it off him. The hand stays right in the center of his chest, holding him down easily. “Let go!”

“Shhh.” The syllape washes over Dirk, the tone as soothing as a snakes hiss. He goes to open his mouth to say something, scream, anything, and all that comes out is silences. “Shhh,” Jake says again, and Dirk feels everything in him relax. It’s a horrifying feeling, because as he relaxes his ears pick up dull cries and shouts from the other side of the house. That is Dave over there. It has to be, and he can’t do anything to get to him; to protect him. The closest thing to a sound he can make is a whimper.

“There, that’s so much better isn’t it”, Jake says as he pulls himself up onto the bed. He moves like vapor in the light, his skin a startling contrast of white to the darkness of the room. Jake’s eyes are green embers that rake over him, touching Dirk in ways that make him want to squirm. Dirk can’t move as Jake’s hand gently graze over his body, touching everything he sees. “You’ve been the one in control for so long,” Jake says as gently as the touches he places on Dirk. “Don’t you want to just relax Dirk? Let someone take care of you?” 

Dirk lets out the same strangled whimper. He doesn’t want that, not at all, not with this freaking thing. He wants Dave, and to be out of these fucking mountains. Why had they even come here? He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to be back in Texas, where it is unbearably hot, and snow never falls.

“I can always make it warmer for you here,” Jake tells him. “Make you burn in so many ways.” 

Had Dirk said that out loud? No...no he hadn't. Jake shouldn’t have known that, how could he possibly have heard that. He hadn’t said it out loud, so how?

“Oh Dirk, you know exactly how I know that.” Jake leans in and nuzzles against his neck. Dirk’s hands tremble as Jake’s mouth moves over his flesh. He can feel the needle points of teeth scrape gently, pricking softly. _‘I’ve been inside you from the moment you stepped in this house.’_ The words don’t come from his mouth, instead they ring inside Dirk’s mind. _‘And I don’t just mean in your head’._ One of his hands move down Dirk’s chest, over his belly, and cup him between his legs. The other hand pulls up one of Dirk’s wrists and pushes the cloth of his jacket away. Jake’s teeth sink into it and he sucks. Warmth shoots through Dirk, and he lets out a gasp as his body wants to writhe, but it can’t.

The teeth slide out slowly, and Jake’s tongue is gentle over the bite, and amazingly there is no blood. “See,” Jake murmurs against his ear. “I can make you warm.” 

_‘Please, just let me go,’_ Dirk begs him, a whole jumble of words fighting to be heard as well. _‘More. Again. Don’t touch me. Leave me alone. Keep going. Don’t let me go. I need to let go. Dave?’_ Dirk tries to keep the other thoughts from filtering out, but everything is such a jumble in his brain. He’s scared and aroused with how Jake makes things feel good and horrible all at once. _‘Let us go,’_ he begs.

Jake’s hands keep moving as he speaks, one of them rubbing over Dirk’s hardening cock in small circles. “That’s not what you really want now, is it?” Jake asks him. ‘It’s not what you wanted before. Not what you begged of me.’

What is he talking about? Dirk never begged him, never asked for anything. All they had done was...was...Dirk’s head spins as Jake smiles down at him. Last night, what had he... 

_Jake was so warm, his hands had been pure heat against Dirk’s skin as he held his hips. “Don’t let me go, Jake, no, don’t let me go.” Dirk had been looking up at Jake, body being filled and split as Jake rocked above him._

_“Never,” Jake had replied. “Never.” Then he had rocked harder and faster, and Dirk had let it happen. Lain and let it happened, and in the end there were teeth._

Dirk tries to fight the memories, the small snippets flashing in his brain of what had happened. The kissing, the biting, how Jake had felt in him. Dirk shakes his head as much as he can and screws his eyes shut.

 _‘No, no,’_ he pleads in his mind. _‘I didn’t say that, that didn’t happen. You’re lying, none of that happened.’_

“Didn’t it, Dirk?” Jake asks softly. “Did I make it up? Why would I do that? I have John, will have him for eternity. Why would I need to make false memories when I can have whatever I want whenever I want?” His hands gently stroke through Dirk’s hair. “I did that for you, because you wanted it. Wanted it so badly Dirk.” He kisses him gently. “All you have is a brother who can’t be left on his own. A dripping bloodlust that you sate with fighting so he never has to face it.” 

_‘No no, he’s fine,’_ Dirk tries to tell them both. __Dave is fine. I’m the violent one. I start the fights.’

“Yes, so he doesn’t have to ever realize that he wants to,” Jake tells him as his hands move to pull down the zipper of Dirk’s jacket, unzipping it slowly. His shirt is on underneath, but he can still feel Jake’s knuckled grazing over his chest. The touch leaves warmth sprouting over his sternum, slowly seeping into his muscles. “No other family to help you with him, a job that makes you be in control at all times,” Jake continues as he gets down to the bottom of the jacket and lets his hands graze over Dirk’s cock. It makes it hard to think for a moment. “It must be so hard.”

 _‘I-I have work partners,’_ Dirk responds. _’They help me, they do.’_

“With everything?” Jake asks and leans down to mouth at Dirk’s neck above the collar of his shirt.

Dirk can’t kept his mind quite. _’I’m left alone, and I work so hard an-’_

“How many orders did you have to fill to come out here and have a few weeks off,” Jake interrupts as his hands massage against Dirk’s arms. “How many will you have to fill when you get home?”

Dirk can’t deny that the ministrations of Jake’s hands feel good, even if he doesn’t want to, and his brain runs. _‘Dozens, dozens and dozens. Worked until my fingers were bleeding. It was fine, I was fine!’_ Dirk wants to thrash and fight him, but the more Jake touches him the harder it is. The corners of his eyes grow damp as his brain keeps going, spitting out memories at dizzying speeds. The long nights, the constant need for new needles, more thread, more felt, more everything. Jake is right, there will be so many orders to fill when he gets back, so much to catch up on.

“What did Dave do for your trip?” Jake asks, shifting gears.

Dirk tries to latch onto it, make it positive. _‘He made the maps, he found where we would go, made dinner, left me to make the calls, the plans, put all the pieces together. He played.’_ Dirk tries to shake his head, to keep the thoughts from becoming bitter. Dave is younger, he takes care of him, watches over him. _’Three years isn’t younger,’_ part of him whispers as the rest tries to parise Dave. 

“You want someone to take over for you for a while, don’t you.” Jake doesn’t pose it as a question as his hands dip under Dirk’s shirt and move upwards. “Even if it’s just for a little while, you need someone to be in control, to take care of you.”

“I-I don’t need that,” Dirk says, and Jake just laughs as Dirk’s brain runs. _‘Please please, yes, god please.’_

“Your mouth says one thing,” he says. _‘But your mind says another,’_ echoes through Dirk’s brain. Dirk’s brain replies with a mixture of responses as Jake’s mouth hovers over Dirk’s. His hands tickle over Dirk’s sides. 

_‘No. Yes. Go away. I need this. Please. No. Yes. Take me. Let me go.’_

Jake leans in. “Let me take care of you,” he murmurs over Dirk’s mouth. “Give me control.”

All of his muscles flex at once, whatever odd power Jake had over him dissipating, and he grabs at Jake. His body can’t decide if he wants to push or pull, so instead he just holds, fingers digging in tight. Jake looks down at him with a smile that allows his fangs to slip out over his lips. 

_‘Please no pleasenopleaseno. Please’_

_‘I just want to take care of you,’_ Jake says in Dirk’s mind as he looks down at him, green eyes bright. He reaches up and pulls his glasses off with one hand while the other comes up and runs over Dirk’s chin. Dirk’s hands hold on tight to Jake’s shoulders. “All you have to do is let me.” Dirk doesn’t see where the glasses go, he’s too focussed on those eyes. If emeralds could hold a flame, they would barely be able to rival the color of Jake’s eyes.

Dirk’s body is growing so warm, his jacket and shirt becoming uncomfortable as he lays beneath Jake. “No, I-” he tries, but he can’t finish, clamping his mouth shut. No no no, he can’t let him. It doesn’t matter if he wa- No he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t. Dirk want’s to stay in control, he needs to stay in control. If he doesn’t stay in control then he...then Dave...but he’s so tired. _No no no._

“Don’t fight me, please.” Jake’s voice sounds pathetic, and his face falls. He pulls back a little, putting a little space between himself and Dirk. Cold tickles over his limbs, and makes Dirk shiver. “I don’t want us to fight, Dirk, I just want to make you feel good. I just want to take care of you.” 

“Jake,” and it’s Dirk’s mouth, not his mind, that says it. It is a high whine as his fingers flex. He needs to shove Jake off, needs to find Dave, but why would he do that? Jake is so warm, right here with him, and why would he need to leave? Jake will take care of him, will make sure he’s okay.

“Kiss me, Dirk,” Jake murmurs. 

Dirk pulls Jake down, and it is Dirk who initiates the kiss. Jake’s mouth is familiar, and why shouldn’t it be? They’ve done this before, all last night, and it was so wonderful. Dirk had just let go, let him in, allowed himself to be taken care of. Now all his brain can think about is how good it will feel to let go again; to let Jake in. Jake can chase out the cold, the snow, and will make him burn again. Dirk wants that, wants it more than anything in this moment. 

_‘Good, Dirk,’_ Jake tells him as their mouth mesh, and Dirk’s body thrums with heat. His skin is starting to sweat, and his clothing is becoming more and more uncomfortable. He wants it off, wants Jake to get it off.

‘Too hot, please, too hot.’

Jake smiles against his mouth and pulls up, and Dirk goes with him. As soon as they are up, Jake helps Dirk shed his coat and his shirt. Their mouths work against one another as Dirk feels the warmth in his body grow even without the coat, filling him up with a beautiful heat like nothing he has ever felt. All of it is coming from Jake.

“Come here,” Jake chuckles against Dirk’s mouth, and pulls away. Dirk’s mouth chases his, and they move around until Jake sits against the headboard and pillows. He pulls Dirk into his lap, hands gripping at his hips and sliding up over his back. Dirk settles his hands on Jake’s waist as he settles into his lap. Jake goes back to massaging Dirk, especially over his lower back. He lets out a slight gasp as Jake pulls Dirk’s hips flush with his. 

Dirk lets out a loud groan. He’s so hard, he hadn’t realized he was so hard, and it feels so good as he grinds against Jake. Jake pulls him down again, and squeezes Dirk’s backside as he does. Dirk lets out another short cry, and Jake’s mouth skims over his naked shoulder.

“Please,” Dirk quietly begs as pinpricks dance over his flesh. _‘I want to feel them, want to feel them, want to feel them so bad’._ “Jake please.”

Teeth sink into his shoulder and he lets out a groan. _’Good boy,’_ drifts through Dirk’s head as warmth spreads through him. It seeps from his shoulder and into his veins. As it travels low he bucks a little harder; a little fast. He thinks he hears his name, but why wouldn’t he? Jake is the one saying it, he’s the only one here, the one who is going to take care of him.

Jake slides his teeth from Dirk’s shoulder and laps gently at the wound. _’Let’s get off your pants.’_ The words flash through Dirk’s mind, and his hands quickly go to do as Jake says. It takes him a moment of scrambling before he rolls off of Jake and lays on the bed, pushing his pants down. Jake goes with him, hands helping to pull them down past his thighs. Dirk’s shoes get in the way, but Jake is there. 

“Let me.” He tugs one off, and then the other, allowing Dirk to lay back on the bed as he takes over. Kisses litter his thighs, calves, and even his ankles as Jake undresses him, and Dirk watches as the clothing on Jake simply ceases to exist.

“There now,” Jake chuckles as he climbs up Dirk’s body, head ducking to kiss his belly and chest. There are remnants of their night before, small holes that had burned so sweetly. They would burn again. 

“Doesn’t that feel better?” Jake asks as he gently grinds their cocks together.

Dirk nods with a groan. Yes, yes it does. It lets Jake touch him, fill him with heat. Each kiss, touch, and thrust fills him with that lovely burn. It is all perfect as Jake moves up him and kisses against his neck.

The cry somewhere makes Dirk go a bit rigid. What was that? 

‘Hush,’ echoes through his mind. ‘It’s nothing but the wind. The storm is still howling.’

Storm? Oh. Oh yeah, that makes sense. But wasn’t there something besides the storm? Something he wanted to take care of?

‘I’m the one to take care of you,’ Jake tells him with kisses trailing up his throat. A hand dips between his legs, and Dirk groans as he and Jake are pumped together. It distracts him, but not from the yelling that continues. What is it? Who is it? He knows that voice, heard it shrill like that at home while their swords clashed. The fights are to keep him from snapping, going out and doing something stupid. They are for...

“Dave?” He feels groggy, floating. Does Dave need help?

“No, not Dave, Jake.” Jake’s voice is soothing, dripping with warmth and welcome, but where is Dave? He needs to keep an eye on Dave.

“Jake? Wh-where’s Dave?” Dirk asks before he groans. The hand on him is doing something wonderful and he lifts his hips upwards to try and get more. _‘Dave? Feels so good. Where? Dave? More.’_

“In good hands, Dirk,” he tells him. “In very good, capable hands. Just as you are.” 

Jake pulls back some, though he continues to pump Dirk. Dirk watches as Jake’s other hand slides over his face before it moves down between Dirk’s legs. It slides into the cleft of his ass, and a finger presses to his hole. It feels sticky and slick. How is it slick? Dirk isn’t sure, but it slides inside him with little resistance and barely any pain. The pleasure keeps him from wondering about it anymore.

Dirk’s mind whirls. _‘Yes yes yes, fill me again, take me. Please, god. Dave?’_

“Don’t worry about Dave,” Jake replies, and there is just a touch of annoyance that makes Dirk shudder. The finger pushes deeper, and Dirk writhes. “Feel me, let me in, obey me.” His mouth covers Dirk’s, and the second finger pushes inside.

 _‘Yes, obey,_ Dirk says as he reaches up and clings to Jake. _Take care of me. Please. Wrong. Jake. Ja-ve.’_

A third finger enters and Dirk lets out a gasp as his hips come up and his fingers dig into Jake’s shoulders while the fingers in him pump. It was too fast, but still so good. God so good.

“No more thinking,” Jake tells him, and Dirk can’t fight the heavy blanket the words settle over his mind. All that echoes is pleasure from corner to corner as the fingers push into him, spread him, and touch over small bundles of pleasure. Still, something sits low and cold in his belly. It is the only thing that fights the warmth, and the pleasure can’t touch it. Even though he can’t think, he can feel it thrumming, moving, screaming. Something is screaming.

The sound is him, and he realizes it is filled with pleasure. Jake’s fingers aren’t in him anymore, it is something else, and it is spreading him in a way that is making his brain wake up just a bit with the pleasure and fire of it. It makes him groan and cry out, and part of him knows it is Jake’s cock, and that soon the heat and pleasure will continue to grow. Yet the cold in his belly is still thrumming, and it fights the heat, makes it harder for the blanket over his mind to stay in place.

“Dirk,” Jake pants as his hands settle on either side of Dirk’s head, nails digging into the sheets. Dirk can hear the cloth being cut as Jake begins to rock into him. “Just be,” Jake says, green eyes bright as he moves over Dirk. “Feel me. Know me. Only me.”

“Only you,” drips from Dirk’s mouth, and the words don’t taste right. 

Dirk’s brain runs. _‘Want him. Keep him. Wrong. So wrong. Dave? Keep me...’_

“You want to stay with me, right Dirk?”

“Stay with...you.” The last word comes out as a pause. He doesn’t want that. Does he? Not all of him, yes part of him, but not all of him. Something is missing, something Jake can’t take care of, only he can take care of it. Only Dirk can make sure it is safe. Where is it. What is it?

The thrusts in his body grow faster, harder, and he fights to heat. The heat doesn’t feel so good anymore. It is heavy, burning, and it feels unreal. Not like the cold. The cold that bites and settles in his bones. That’s real, that is what the storm outside should bring, not heat.

“Stop it,” Jake growls. “You need me, Dirk. Need me to take control.”

Jake pulls back, and Dirk can see him scowl. Dirk’s head lolls from one side to the other. Pleasure revs through him in one way, confusion pushes through another, and the cold is twisting deep in him. So deep, and it’s like laying in snow. Like when he fell while trying to ski, and Dave had...Dave.

“Dave,” he gasps and tries to sit up. Jake slams his hand into Dirk’s chest and forces him down. For a moment he can not breathe. 

“I can take care of him,” Jake grits out as he thrusts in hard. The hand pushing into Dirk’s chest, keeps him pinned. The other hand grabs one of Dirk’s legs and throws it over Jake’s shoulder, letting him move in deep. “I can take care of you both. Keep you. Let me Dirk, let us.”

“Dave, I need to-” Us? The blanket dissipates.

_”Your little brother has quite a nice ass.”_

Dirk sees blue in his mind for a moment, and his brain thinks a single word. _John._

Dirk fights. He can’t let John hurt Dave, he won’t. His limbs feel heavy as he pushes against Jake, but he does his best; pushing and biting at the other's mouth when he tries to kiss him. 

_‘He’ll take care of us. Both. Safe. Wrong. Safe. Both safe.’_ The voice sounds like his, but it doesn’t feel right. Something is wrong with it. 

“G-get off,” Dirk pants, and he pushes back. “Let me go. He’s going to hurt him. He’s going to-”

A clawed hand closes around his chin, and forces his head still. Their bodies stop moving, and he grips at Jake’s hand as he is forced to look at him. 

“Stop thinking,” Jake grits out. “You need me.” His hands burns where it grips, and Dirk jerks his head.

“I need my brother,” he grits out. “Not you, you-” He gasps as Jake’s other hand digs into his chest. He looks up with wide eyes.

“What,” Jake asks, and tilts his head. “What am I, Dirk?” He lets Dirk’s leg go, and it falls to the bed.

Dirk’s mouth opens and closes for a moment, because there are so many things he could say. _Freak, ghost, demon._ The ideas flow, and the thoughts just make Jake’s snear grow.

“Do you want me to show you what I am, Dirk?” Jake asks it with a malicious grin, and thrusts into Dirk. It makes Dirk’s eyes flutter for a moment at the sensation mixed between pleasure and pain. When they open fully again they freeze wide. He can’t quite tell what he’s looking at. There is only one green eye looking down at him and the rest is...it’s…

 _’No.’_ Echoes through Dirk’s head as he stares up at the pulp that used to be a head. Bone fragments stick out like thorns from the side of Jake’s skull; something grey and lumpy, gelatin like, shines through the gaps; his skin is split all down the left side of his face, hanging in strips from his skull like old paint; and hanging down near his lips is his second eye, or what is left of it. It is nothing but a grey husk with a splash of green and red to it.

“Tell me, Dirk,” Jake starts, and he sounds like he is talking around marbles. It takes Dirk a moment to realize he is talking around the shards of his teeth. “What would you call me now?”

Dirk can’t say anything, but his brain is running wild. _’Oh god, get away, disgusting, leave me alone. Dead. He’s a corpse. Get away.’_

Jake lets out something similar to a bark of laughter. “A corpse,” he replies. “Yes, a corpse sounds right.” He leans in, and Dirk tries to move away from the husk of the eye that swing towards his face. “So, Dirk, now you know how it feels to be fucked by a corpse.” 

Dirk lets out a cry as Jake suddenly starts to move again, and a high whine as the hand not holding him down dips over the smashed half of Jake’s face. Dirk watches his fingers coat in gore before wrapping around his dick. Dirk’s hands scramble to push Jake off as the other thrusts into him. He wants him off, he doesn’t want this. He needs Dave, they need to leave, oh god he wants Jake to get off.

“What’s wrong, don’t like how I look?” Jake asks, and Dirk’s brain responds for him.

_’Turn back. Go back. Please. No god. Please.’_

Jake slows. “That’s hurtful, Dirk.”

_’Please, please Jake. I’ll do anything. Back. Turn back.’_

Jake smirks down at him through broken teeth, and blood trickles over his chin. “Close your eyes,” he tells him. 

He debates on it for a moment, laying with his hands tugging on the arm against his chest. He doesn’t want to do that, he really doesn’t. He could become worse, or kill him, or-

_’You said anything._

Dirk shuts his eyes quickly.

“Good, now,” Jake’s voice is already losing it’s gravelly tone. Dirk feels Jake lean down towards him, and awaits the eyeball to touch his cheek, but it doesn’t come. “Are you going to let me take care of you?” Jake asks, there is a threat in there, a warning. Dirk shudders, body trembling. He can’t move.

“W-what about Dave?” he asks. He lets out a little gasp as Jake starts moving, and it feels good this time. Warmth starts to seep into him again. The screaming cold in his body fights, writhes, and Dirk is the one to push it down. Jake will kill him if he doesn’t let him take care of him. He’ll end up like the thing he had just seen above him; a corpse. He’s no good to Dave as a corpse.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jake murmurs and nuzzles his neck. Dirk lets the heat fill him, move through him, and doesn’t fight it as the blanket in his mind returns. He does it for Dave. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Take care of us,” Dirk repeats. _’Keep us._

“Yes,” Jake hisses. “I can keep you. We can keep you both.” This time when their mouths come together Dirk lets them, though he shudders. He feels like he can taste blood, though he knows it isn’t happening. The kiss moves heat back through him, fills his mind, and he relax. He doesn’t have to fight it anymore. Jake will take care of him, take care of Dave. He will watch them both, take away the responsibility. That is what he needs, to have that taken away, to let him be free.

“Jake,” he groans as Jake keeps moving inside him.

“Good, Dirk. I’ll take care of you. That’s what you want. isn’t it?” Jake murmurs against him.

“Want, to be, safe,” Dirk pants and jerks with a cry as Jake hits in deep. “Want us to be s-safe.” 

“Then don’t, think.” Jake’s thrusts make him warm, the cold shrinking, disappearing. “All you have to do is not think.” 

He thrusts in hard, and Dirk cries out as he digs his fingers into the bed. “Please,” he begs as the warmth consumes him. “I d-don’t want to th-think.”

_’Don’t hurt me. Don’t change. Take me. Burning. For Dave.’_

He looks up at Jake, and for a moment the ice shoots back through him as he watches Jake’s tongue trace over too long fangs. He sees broken teeth, a bloody skull. 

He blinks and it is gone. Jake pauses just long enough to raise Dirk leg again, putting it over his shoulder, and kisses DIrk’s ankle. Dirk’s eyes never leave Jake’s face. 

“Oh Dirk,” Jake says in a low, mocking tone before dragging his tongue over the flesh of Dirk’s leg. _I could never hurt you.’_ Teeth sink deep into Dirk’s calf. Hot pain flares up his leg, flashes through his groin, burns through his chest, and devours his brain. It feels like he is boiling alive in his own skin.

 _‘Let go,’_ Jake tells him with his mind, and it echoes. Everything in him echos as Jake empties him, and Dirk lets him. _‘Let go.’_

Dirk’s brain fizzles to static, and this time he doesn’t fight it. There is still that nugget of cold, but the warmth is there, filling him. It means he is safe, that Dave will be safe, and that they don’t have to worry anymore. They will be taken care of; always taken care of.

Jake keeps moving in him, and Dirk feels his body tighten as his mind goes loose. Jake keeps whispering through him as their mouths come together.

_’Good boy. Mine. Forever Mine. Take you alive. Always with you.’_

Dirk is drowning. _’So good. Let go. Help. Let go. Let go. Dave. So sorry. Let go._

“Jake,” he chokes out as he cums, and a gasp escapes him as Jake’s teeth sink into him again. Pleasure fills Dirk, burns him up, and his insides fill with fire as Jake stills inside as he cums as well. 

His pleasure echoes back into Dirk, pulling him into a vortex of pleasure so white hot that it blackens his mind to ashes. He doesn’t try to escape the flames.  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure I caught everything, but sorry if I didn't!

**Mount Elbert Rescue.  
 **January 23rd** **

**Time of extraction: 8:53 Am**

**Report by Nepeta Leigion**

**Case Description:**

On the morning of January 23rd, Equius Zahhak and myself took a chopper to extract the brothers Dave and Dirk Strider. They had called emergency services in the late afternoon of the 22nd, but due to the incoming storm it was deemed too dangerous for extraction. There were reported chances that the older brother, Dirk, may have been suffering from altitude sickness and dehydration. It was not deemed life threatening, though contact was lost before more information could be gathered.

Zahhak and myself found the boys laid out in the lower living room, fully clothed, though uncovered. We called out to both, but there was no response. Upon inspection it was found both boys were highly anemic. They were both covered in a multitude of unexplained matching marks which we believe are responsible for the blood loss.

Dave was also covered in bruises, leading us to assume that the boys were possibly mugged and stabbed over and over with a sharp implement. Due to lack of blood, and holes in the clothing, it is assumed they were knocked out, stripped, and then assaulted. Further inspection will be needed to tell how, though we are assuming from the reaction of Dave upon waking up that it was sexual in nature.

Dave woke up in the helicopter on the way down the mountain, continually saying the name ‘John’ and ‘No’. Whenever Equius or myself would try and inspect his wounds he would thrash, leading us to restrain him to keep him from hurting himself or us. Dirk has yet to wake up even after being given a transfusion.

**Current:**

Dave and Dirk are being treated at the local hospital, both of them having been in need of blood transfusions, though Dirk has lost much more than Dave. He has also yet to wake up, and do to his brain activity it is possible he has fallen into a coma due to lack of blood to the brain. To be honest it is a miracle the older boy is alive. The doctors are expecting Dave to make a complete recovery however, though he will need therapy to help him come to terms with whatever has happened.

**Notes:**

To be purrfectly honest, I can’t even begin to understand what happened in that house. There was no sign that anyone else was in the house, there was no blood around the bodies, and from what detective Serket has told me, the police haven’t found any blood anywhere else in the house. It makes no sense, and with the old stories about the house, it makes me think something much more sinister happened in there.

This is not the first time we’ve had to airlift people out of that place, and after this time I think it best that the place be burned to the ground. It is nothing more than a place for degenerates to squat, and after these boys there is proof that something is not right with it. It is a hazard, and should be condemned. 

**Items Found:**

Dirk: Set of sunglasses, cell phone, set of (reading?) glasses.

Dave: Set of sunglasses, cell phone, hunting knife (souvenir?)

\-------------------

“Finally, home,” Dave grumbles as he pushes Dirk through the doorway. They had been stuck in Colorado for an extra two weeks, continually being tested and examined. He never wanted to see another shrink again, though that wasn’t going to happen. Doctors orders, he had to go twice a week to deal with...whatever had happened. Not that he can remember, everything about that night is just one big black blur. 

Getting Dirk’s wheelchair into the room is hard to do while also carrying luggage. Dirk has a box in his lap that he holds loosely. It had been waiting for them at the front office. The landlord had told them it had showed up just a day before them. The address was Colorado, and Dave could give less of a fuck as to what the doctors had sent them.

“Damn this place is dusty,” he grumbles as he look through the strands of late evening sunlight that shimmer with dust motes. “I’ll get out the duster as soon as we get you all squared away, okay?” 

Dirk doesn’t respond, and Dave does his best to ignore the knot of pain in his chest. He should be happy Dirk came out of his coma, but with how Dirk has completely checked out of reality, Dave kind of wishes he had stayed asleep. Wouldn’t be as hard to be around him if he were sleeping. The doctor has told him that Dirk’s mind is trying to deal with whatever had happened,and to do that he had blocked out everything else. That means Dirk won’t talk, barely eats, and every time Dave looks into Dirk’s eyes there is nothing there. Dirk is just empty, and it makes him want to shake Dirk, scream at him, punch him. After everything, Dave just wants Dirk to react for fuck sake, or at least get him a new pair of shades so he won’t have to look in his eyes anymore. It’s not fair that Dirk can ignore the world while Dave is left alone.

Right now he wants to tip over the wheel chair and leave him on the floor he’s so sick of the silence. Dirk had just sat on the plane, staring at his feet and barely blinking. Dave wants to make him take care of himself, force him to deal, but that’s not fair, and Dave knows it. Instead, Dave takes a deep breathe, pushes Dirk into the center of the room, turns him to look at the blank television, and tosses Dirk’s bag to the side. “I’ll be right back,” he grumbles and and takes his bag towards his room. There is no response. “Why don’t you finally move and unload something,” he snaps as he leaves. There is no response.

Opening the door to his room Dave feels a bit odd to be back. It’s like everything is vibrating one molecule off to the left. Reaching up he goes to push up his glasses, and instead touches the bridge of his nose. They still haven’t gotten them their personal effects from that night yet, clothing and shades included. He hates it. Even had to buy a new phone.

With sharp movements he throws his bag at the foot of his bed. At least the bastards had given them everything that had been in the car, though it’s not like they need the heavy clothes now that they are back in Texas. The sleeping pills he had been prescribed rattle as they hit the bed. He wonders if he’ll need them tonight. With how often he has nightmares without them, probably. At least he doesn’t remember those either.

Behind him he hears movement, and he jumps. Listening hard he tries to pinpoint the sound. It comes again, and it sounds like tape being torn. “The hell?” 

He picks up the sword near his bedroom door and heads out into the hallway. “Dirk?” he calls, though he doesn’t really need to. Dirk is sitting in the center of the living room still, though there is something a bit different. There are stripps of tape around the wheels of his chair, and on either side of his head Dave can see the points of his shades. 

Dave walks forwards slowly. Dirk has barely held a spoon in over two weeks, how had he just done that? “Dirk, you okay?” There is a rustling sound, and then Dirk lifts his hand. The movement makes Dave stall, but when he sees his shades sitting between the others fingers he relaxes a little. “About time,” he huffs as sets his sword in the hall and walks into the living room. 

“What else did they send us?” Dave takes his glasses and slips them on, waiting for Dirk to talk. Instead his brother drops his hand to his lap and stares forward through his shades at nothing. Anger bubbles up beneath his skin, and he forces it down.

“Fine, don’t answer me,” Dave grumbles and grabs the box from his brothers lap. It is filled with packing peanuts, though he can see the handle of something sticking out of it along with the top of what looks like his cell. “The hell?” 

Walking to the breakfast bar, Dave sets the box down and reaches inside. He pulls out a knife in some sort of old leather sheath. It is cool and familiar in his hand, which makes no sense. When had he bought a knife? Was it a gift from one of the doctors? He slides it from its sheath, and promptly drops it. His head whips around as he looks for the eyes he had seen reflected in the blade. Instead he finds an empty wheelchair.

“D-Dirk?” Dave calls. He hears a groan from down the hall. “Dirk, you okay?” As he walks towards the hall he hears something crunch under his foot. Looking down he pulls back his foot to find Dirk’s shades on the floor. “What the fuck?”

Dave reaches down to pick them up, part of them cracked. His fingers almost touch them when he sees a flash of blue in the center, and jerks back. He lands on his butt as his eyes dodge around the room, but there is nothing. Panting, his eyes dart through the dimness, and he realizes the sun has all but fully gone down. A breeze ruffles his hair.

“Dirk?” he calls out as he scrambles to his feet and rushes down the hall, grabbing his sword as he goes. He grasps the doorknob to Dirk’s room and turns. It doesn’t budge. “Dirk!” Another groan behind the door, and was that a...chuckle underneath it. Dave reaches to flick on the hallway light, but nothing happens. He flicks it a few more times. “Dirk, open the door,” Dave calls and bangs on the wood. Another groan and another small laugh. He thinks he hears murmuring. “Damn it Dirk! I swear to fuck if you don’t open this door I’ll-”

“Oh leave them alone, Dave.”

Dave whips around and looks into his room. Through his door he can see someone on his bed lounging. It’s a guy around his age, in older looking clothes and glasses. He has his hands up behind his head as he lays on Dave’s bed.

“W-who the fuck are you?” Dave asks as he stares at the boy on the bed. 

The boy grins. “Come on, Dave,” he says as he sits up. “We had so much fun in the mountains.”

What? “The fuck are you talking about? What are you doing here? How did you get in?” The questions spill out quick.

The guy chuckles. “You let me in silly,” he says, and he tosses something into the air and catches it easily. Dave stares at the blade in his hand. He had left that in the kitchen, so how-

“Ooo! Are you going to stab me?” the bespectacled boy asks, and Dave is surprised he has slid into a fighting stance, his sword up. “I’ve been waiting to feel you in me again, if you know what I mean.” He winks, and Dave feels his hair lift as a breeze blows through the room. The only light in the room comes from the window, and it is barely enough to see by. The sun is almost completely down. 

“Again? The fuck are you talking about? If I had stabbed you, you would be dead,” Dave snarls.

“Oh, it wasn’t just with the knife. Don’t you remember?” He grins wide, and there is something wrong with his teeth. “You liked fucking me raw.”

Dave feels the world tilt at the words and grabs at the door frame. Behind him he hears a groan of pleasure and muffled words of praise. What the fuck is happening? Shaking his head, Dave lifts his head and finds blue eyes piercing through his shades. The reaction is instantaneous as he shoves his sword forwards, and the blue eyed boy doesn’t even move. The sword slides through his chest as easy as pushing toes into sand. Dave stares wide eyed as the boy tilts his head back and groans in the most obscene way. Hands come up and grip Dave’s hips, and he is jerked forward, forcing the sword deeper.

“This is what I was missing.”

Dave is shaking as he is pulled into the room by his hips. His brain is numb as he stares at where his sword has pierced,because there isn’t nearly enough blood. 

“W-who are you?” Dave asks with shaky words. A gust of wind blows past him and his door slams shut. Dave doesn’t turn around, because something tells him he won’t get out. The door won’t open.

The hands on his hips let go and them move up, and they take Dave’s sunglasses off his trembling nose. Without the tinting, the room becomes a bit lighter, and those blue eyes look almost electric in color. “Jake knows me too well,” he murmurs as he throws Dave’s glasses to the side. “He’s going to let me break you all over again.” His other hand cups Dave’s face, and Dave tries to jerk away. To his horror, he feels like he can’t move even if he tried.

Dave’s eyes go wide as he look at the young mans grin. The teeth are much too long, much too sharp.

“John?” he asks, and his voice is trembling as much as the rest of him as he tries to move, to twist, to do anything.

John grins and leans forwards, and his cool, copper scented breath wafts up Dave’s nose.

“Told you I’d never let you go,” he says. The hand on his face slides down to wrap around Dave’s neck and squeezes. “And I take back what I said.”

“W-what?” Dave asks. His voice is barely recognizable through the fear and too little air.

“I’m not ever going to part with you,” John murmurs as he ghosts his mouth over Dave’s. “Not even when you die.”

Dave doesn’t get to scream. John’s mouth is on his too fast.  
\------

**HOUSTON CRONICLE**

_Not Brotherly Love_

By Eridan Ampora

Last night, Houston Police rushed to the apartment shared by Dave and Dirk Strider to find a bloody scene. Dirk Strider was found nude and stabbed to death in his bedroom. Across the hall, Dave Strider was found nude as well, but with a slit throat. The murder weapon for both boys was being held by Dave; a knife used in skinning animals. The wound to his neck was deemed self inflicted. They were also found to have multiple puncture wounds, though the weapon that caused them has yet to be found.

As of now it is suspected that Dave, having been under treatment for PTSD in Colorado after the brothers were found near death in the mountains, snapped and attacked his brother who was considered a dependant after awaking from a coma just over a week ago. While neighbors say they had heard other voices in the apartment above, there has so far been no signs of forced entry, and surveillance tapes show no one but the Strider boys entering the apartment.

The only items missing, as described by the Strider’s neighbors, were the sunglasses that the Strider brothers were always seen wearing. As of now, no other items are being recoded as missing by police, and unless anything else is found missing, or the other weapon found, then this case will continue to be ruled as a tragic homicide/suicide. 

While those in the builder knew that the Striders enjoyed a good fight now and again on the roof, they all said the brothers got along relatively well. One neighbor even said she had thought they were hiding more than a brotherly bond, though they could not confirm it. If these two had such a loving brotherly relationship, then why did this happen? What could possibly make Dave Strider go so mad as to kill his brother, and possible lover?

It makes this journalist wonder, just what happened to the Strider brothers while they were in Colorado, and what secrets do those mountains hold? A secret this journalist is going to uncover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally this damn thing is done.


End file.
